Post by JASPAR GEOFFREY OZWELL on Jul 25, 2010 13:44:42 GMT -5
WELCOME TO TOUR, JASPAR OZWELL !
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jas, letters to ghost towns, photographer, twenty, william beckett
"i-i... do i really have to? yes? oh... um. i-i'm jaspar murphy. professionally at least. my n-name is jaspar ozwell, n-now. i-i just got married n-not too long ago. it sh-shouldn't be too hard to guess who th-the other is. i-i... i really don't like talking about myself. yes, i-i am really shy. my mum makes fun of me quiet often for it. and my sisters. and my family all t-together. um... i-i come from chicago, illinois with a possibly too large family. but needless to say, i-i never had much t-time for boredom. most people w-would probably describe me as being sh-shy and awkward. which c-could be true. i-i don't really t-talk to many people. part of that does have to deal with my st-stutter. and i might be a bit self-conscious over little th-things. a lot of little things. i'm paranoid with my weight, th-though that's a completely different story. and i don't feel like talking it. um. y-you could say that i'm into the arts. i am a photographer, and i-i do write. play a little guitar t-too. just a bit on the creative side, i-i guess. th-though, i will admit that music is a big passion of mine. my original goal was to make it in the industry. i sort of am now. n-not where i wanted to be, but i'm still here. a-after all, i wouldn't have had met my husband if i-i hadn't. and yes, husband. if you're surprised, you probably sh-shouldn't be. no one else really has seemed like it. but really, i-i love him and that's all that sh-should matter. but, no, i-i'm not entirely gay. possibly. i-i don't think it really matters that much. but... yeah. i should probably say th-that i am a little messed up in the head. as in, i have s-schizophrenia. it's not something th-that i like to throw out for everyone to know. but, i-i got diagnosed when i was sixteen. after an episode. but, um. yeah. if you couldn't t-tell, i'm just a bit awkward. or a lot. th-there are plenty of people that can back that up as well. i'm not a big fan of meeting new people. i-i don't know. really, i just don't like to get close to people. t-trust issues i guess. it's not like i'm not close to anyone though; i-i am. and i'm often just a bit t-too overprotective of them. in a way. part of th-that might have to deal with my paranoia though. it's awful. it's not as bad as i-it was before th-the medication, but it's still bad. yeah, i still freak out over n-nothing. i guess it's just another th-thing people can use to make fun of me. not like th-they don't find anything else. oh well. um... have i mentioned th-that i have a big family? yes? well, i'm the middle child out of five. and th-the only male. th-though, my sisters all say th-that i'm enough of a girl to count as one. my mother agrees. great family, eh? i still love them, so it's all good. i guess. even if they do often m-make my life a living hell. i-i'm also a father. to a little girl. sh-she's five now, and i may be h-having issues with her growing up. but she's really everything to me. and i-i'll be one of those cliches and say that i don't know where i'd be without her. it's th-the truth though. she's the main reason that i've tried to "c-cure" myself. and so far, so good. i haven't had any episodes since the one before my diagnosis. well, n-nothing too seriously at least. and i'm also trying hard not to be a-another over protective father, but i-i don't think that's going to work out too well. i-i just don't want anything to h-happen to my little girl, you know? sh-she has saved me, in a way. i-i could still be in th-the loony bin if it w-wasn't for her. or hey, i could even be d-dead if it wasn't for her. sure, th-the situation around th-that time wasn't all good, but wh-whenever a smile sparks on her face, it doesn't matter. at least she's in m-my life. and, um... yeah. i-i really don't know w-what else to say. really, i'm nothing special, at all. just a-another self-conscious, paranoid kid in the world. and th-this is far too much talking about myself. can we move on?"
BRYANNA, NINETEEN, EIGHT YEARS, BEN NELKIN.[/CENTER]
BEN SMILED SOFTLY AT THE BOY AS HE FELT THE FINGERS RUNNING THROUGH HIS hair. Maybe there may have been the mental debating going on in his head about where this was headed, where this would lead him to in the morning. For the most part, however, he wasn't worried about it. Hell, he wasn't even sure if his new friend was even gay. But he seemed like fun, and he was cute enough. Why not take the chance and see what happened? It didn't matter if it went anywhere. Hell, he could have kissed the boy right then and there. They were close enough. All he had to do was lean his head over and press his lips to those tempting ones not too far away. He didn't though. His drunken haze was taking over his mind and most of his senses, but he was still trying to control himself. Whenever that happened though, he never lasted long. He usually gave into whatever temptation was present. So whether or not he'd be spending the night or be punched in the face was his own choice . Unless, however, Hayden beat him to the punch. But from the behavior he was seeing now, he didn't see much happening there. From the looks of it, the boy was unsure of what he wanted. Maybe he was even unsure of himself. He still wasn't going to push it. Not until the "right time" or he couldn't hold back any longer. Sure, normally he would have been all over the person by now if given the opportunity. With guys, however, Ben felt just a little bit more cautious.
It was hard to say whatever that went through the boy's mind. There was all too much, and then it was all absolutely nothing at the same time. Biting on his plush bottom lip, he steadied his gaze on the television and watched complete idiots perform shit that he probably would have had never thought of. Yeah, he might have not done the exact things they were doing. Maybe not even close. But it sounded nice. If he was actually given the opportunity to go forward and do something, he would actually chicken out. But hey, whatever. It didn't matter. After all, he had found the one thing that he truly needed. With music, he didn't need anything else. It was the one thing that he felt like he couldn't mess up. Honestly, he didn't care if anyone thought it was good or even listened to it. He could have only have one listener, and he still would have acted like he had a million people behind him. But he had his own reasons. On that stage, he took on a whole new persona. He had no cares and no worries. Sure, the boy never acted too seriously about anything. He still frolicked around the stage just like he would have in any other situation. He still pulled jokes and actions he would have done while being in a basement with a bunch of friends. But music was the escape that he needed. If it weren't for that, he'd probably be dead already.
But he was thankful that he was being hesitant. Or maybe for once, Ben Nelkin was showing off hints toward being nervous. It was a rare event, but when you had absolutely no clue what the limit to the possibilities were, it was often hard to not feel the feeling. His feet bit into his bottom lip gently as he watched the movie playing out until he , once again, heard the (sort of) familiar voice of the boy below him. "Mmhm," he voiced, dipping his head down in a small nod. Yeah, it was a lie, but he had no purpose in telling the boy the truth. He didn't know him all that well, anyway. It wouldn't have been likely that he would have confessed everything that was going on in his head to some new kid he happened to meet. Hell, he didn't even tell it to his best of friends. Perhaps he really was just another ticking time bomb. One day he would just implode, and everything could come slipping out. For now though, he would keep himself bottled up and keep on with his never ending charades.
His eyes watched the man for a moment longer, trailing a path over his face before lingering on those lips. Clenching his teeth down on his lip from the inside he pushed his gaze back up. No, he hadn't wanted to scare the boy away. This was a rather nice change of things that he had become all too common. Sure, he was never the one that could say no to sex. He was a whore, and he knew well enough that he was. Sometimes, he had regretted it but what was he supposed to do? It was too late to change anything. So hey, he would just continue to live his life the way that it was. Reckless, spontaneous and promiscuous.
Daring, his fingers trailed a path down the man's skinny arm before resting on his hip. They rubbed a small pattern over the fabric, working carefully before they tiptoed their way underneath the fabric. He kept his eyes fixed on the TV while his fingers traced light patterns against the skin. Sure, it could have had been a risky move to do, but as the time had gone on, the temptation was really growing greater. But if the boy was to deny him, then, hey, what he could do? It wouldn't have been the first time, and it wasn't like his hand was his worse enemy either. Still, he continued on. He looked down at the boy, watching his reaction with possibly the smallest of smirks fighting its way onto his lips.
It was hard to say whatever that went through the boy's mind. There was all too much, and then it was all absolutely nothing at the same time. Biting on his plush bottom lip, he steadied his gaze on the television and watched complete idiots perform shit that he probably would have had never thought of. Yeah, he might have not done the exact things they were doing. Maybe not even close. But it sounded nice. If he was actually given the opportunity to go forward and do something, he would actually chicken out. But hey, whatever. It didn't matter. After all, he had found the one thing that he truly needed. With music, he didn't need anything else. It was the one thing that he felt like he couldn't mess up. Honestly, he didn't care if anyone thought it was good or even listened to it. He could have only have one listener, and he still would have acted like he had a million people behind him. But he had his own reasons. On that stage, he took on a whole new persona. He had no cares and no worries. Sure, the boy never acted too seriously about anything. He still frolicked around the stage just like he would have in any other situation. He still pulled jokes and actions he would have done while being in a basement with a bunch of friends. But music was the escape that he needed. If it weren't for that, he'd probably be dead already.
But he was thankful that he was being hesitant. Or maybe for once, Ben Nelkin was showing off hints toward being nervous. It was a rare event, but when you had absolutely no clue what the limit to the possibilities were, it was often hard to not feel the feeling. His feet bit into his bottom lip gently as he watched the movie playing out until he , once again, heard the (sort of) familiar voice of the boy below him. "Mmhm," he voiced, dipping his head down in a small nod. Yeah, it was a lie, but he had no purpose in telling the boy the truth. He didn't know him all that well, anyway. It wouldn't have been likely that he would have confessed everything that was going on in his head to some new kid he happened to meet. Hell, he didn't even tell it to his best of friends. Perhaps he really was just another ticking time bomb. One day he would just implode, and everything could come slipping out. For now though, he would keep himself bottled up and keep on with his never ending charades.
His eyes watched the man for a moment longer, trailing a path over his face before lingering on those lips. Clenching his teeth down on his lip from the inside he pushed his gaze back up. No, he hadn't wanted to scare the boy away. This was a rather nice change of things that he had become all too common. Sure, he was never the one that could say no to sex. He was a whore, and he knew well enough that he was. Sometimes, he had regretted it but what was he supposed to do? It was too late to change anything. So hey, he would just continue to live his life the way that it was. Reckless, spontaneous and promiscuous.
Daring, his fingers trailed a path down the man's skinny arm before resting on his hip. They rubbed a small pattern over the fabric, working carefully before they tiptoed their way underneath the fabric. He kept his eyes fixed on the TV while his fingers traced light patterns against the skin. Sure, it could have had been a risky move to do, but as the time had gone on, the temptation was really growing greater. But if the boy was to deny him, then, hey, what he could do? It wouldn't have been the first time, and it wasn't like his hand was his worse enemy either. Still, he continued on. He looked down at the boy, watching his reaction with possibly the smallest of smirks fighting its way onto his lips.
