bang, bang [ziam]

what we both want

i am a nasty bitch........ like wow. sexual themes, but it's bad bc i'm trash haaaaaa.......

(p.s: i'm sorry for being slack with updates and there are probably mistakes but i try to edit as much as i can! also i'm a perfectionist so it takes forever to get through shit. 2017 has already been a ride for me tbh.)

music:

elephant - tame impala

hunter - pharrel

blow - beyonce

walking on a dream - empire of the sun

z.m

"so when can I see you after school?" liam asks in his school uniform, looking as boyish as ever in his ugly, grey polyester shorts that just reach his bony knees and those dulling flaxen socks that go pass his thin ankles. i remember it all, the days of being a teenager when i had to throw myself out of bed and put on a smelly, old uniform, the scent of poignant teenage hygiene.

i hear it so often that people would do anything to go back to high school. to go back to the salad days where they could kiss their dream girl by the lockers at lunch time and prattle about the times they danced and cried the hardest. but i'd rather jab a knife into my eye and twist it into the socket. school was simply a place where every little dream and ambition was crushed and spat on. you think love is kind? love is blind and deaf and all of the above when you have hormones racing through your body, telling absolute lies. you think you're good at that? try harder and earn yourself nothing because you'll always be compared to the better arsehole next to you with a smug, vacant grin and wealthier parents. which path do you want to take? you succeed with a girlfriend and a clean-cut job with a button-up shirt and a big fucking t.v and mortgage to pay. you don't? you're left with nothing - thinking that the world actually cares about art when they really don't. you're left alone - fooling around with hollow, trivial people in some flat that has one mattress and black mold growing on the ceiling and sparking up to stop yourself from getting depressed.

fortunately, i was lucky enough to scam my way into the film industry for costume design. but sometimes i wondered if i was just meant to be some drop-out misfit living on stolen milk and bread.

i only bothered going to school just to torture the people i didn't like, and that was mostly everyone. i remembered one day i fancied myself with the plan to tie everyone's shoe laces together in class, waiting for the bell to ring and watching all of my peers fall and smack their faces on the floor like fishes out of water. then there was this girl, with the rich parents and the countless friends, and i hated her with a passion, so much so that i black mailed her with photos of her and the gym teacher kissing in his office. it was pathetic, the gym teacher was some old bloke hanging around for young, impressional girls to fuck around with, and she was his unaware victim. the fact that i had found out made her so embarrassed that she ended up buying me a coffee and lunch every day as a bribe and begged to do my homework when i didn't feel like it. then, there was the time i fed the whole football team with laxatives in their drinks before their big tournament just for pure fun. it was like a fecal jackson pollock out on the field and i didn't regret any of it, even when the whole school watched in horror as all of the boys ran out with shit-stained shorts and green faces. it was probably the most exciting thing that's ever happened to them in their small, miserable lives.

but as i stare at liam with his big, doe eyes and that chocolate birthmark on his neck waiting for an answer, i can't help but to be frightened of all of it. his roughened up leather shoes that are far too small for his feet and his faintly blue button up that has a black tie hung sloppily around his neck. he hasn't even hit the real world yet and it's too much to reconsider. for once, i don't want to be an arsehole, i don't want to be some old bloke who takes advantage of a naive teenager. but fighting myself is like a lost cause, i'm just born nasty bastard.