i can taste the words. i can hear the words. i can ____ the words. but i can't write the words.
i've tried over and over and over and over again, but the words always seem prettier than they appear. and i turn imaginary pages of beauty into atrocity and i fear for the future because of me and the type of person i am. jesus christ, i can't be the only one - but at the end of the day, that would just make me a statistic and i may not necessarily be human but i am certainly not a percentage. i destroy things i'm passionate about over and over because i'm so overly passionate - or maybe i don't know the true meaning of passion at all? and my wristlipskneesthighselbows has/have bled. and i'm self-degrading and oh so full of myself (a. failing b. hating c. obsessing d. all of the above) masochistbleedbleedbleed and bleed some more. my knife isn't literal and it isn't figurative and the pain of ruining something i'm so passionate/unpassionate about runs so emotionally deep that it's turned physical and i can feel it in my armschesthead and it's throbbing throbbing throbbing.
my knife is analytical. my knife is both figurative and literal. my knife is my knife.
and i love(d) you but i shouldn't. i should hate you for carving into my coldfrozenphilophobiccutoff heart and even more for being just another countless scar on my wrist but i love you so much more than i ever knew possible. the fact that you're just the overpowering shadow of both everything i do and do not want to be just makes it worse and i cry and i feel pretty words that i can't organize into the correct subjectpredicatepreposition.
maybe i'm so absolutely disgusted with the things you do to me that the only passion i've everhadeverwillhave has confused me and now i think i'm in love.
and i miss you and i've given up on ever seeing you again. except i'm lying because every year i close my eyes and i bite my tongue and my lip and selfish tears squeeze through eyelids anyway and i hope some more. and i'll always end up back there because i'm busy (a. failing b. hating c. obsessing d. all of the above)

i am such a FAILUREBREAKDOWNDEFICITDOWNFALLINADEQUACYINCOMPETENTDISAPPOINTMENTBROKENDISASTER
the thesaurus can't offer me enough words to keep me satisfied to describe my lack of anything good.

i hate the word hate, but i think i hate myself.

i'msosorryiturnedoutthisway.

Title: Snow and Lights/Time Well Wasted
Author: wilchel
Disclaimer: Title of series is a band name, half of the title of every oneshot is a song name, division name is the name of an album. I was putting it off, but I certainly don't own Billy and Dominic, because I'd be bragging about it if I did.
Fandom: lotrips, generally Monaboyd. (Trying for all NZ; not sure if this will be possible, but I feel like there hasn't been much NZ fic for a while.) (Hey, I should mention that each installment in this series is not meant to be related to the last. They're all just one-shots inspired by the same band; not chapters.)
Medium: fan fiction
Pairing: Monaboyd
Characters: Billy, Dominic - Elijah and Sean, too, but they really don't do anything, as I only mention them in passing.
Rating: PG blah blah blah.
Word Count: 4168
Summary: "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I need someone to hold me back, and I want that person to be you?"
Author's Notes: OH MY GOD. DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THIS. It takes a lot for me to actually enjoy something I've written, but this is one of those things that I'm really glad I wrote. The funny thing is, it took me at least five times listening to Snow and Lights to get the inspiration to this one, whereas for Die/Breathe it was like 'I GOTS IT' the first time, and I didn't have to listen to it again. Anyway, I'm really enjoying how this turned out. Also, lolz @ Dominic when he pulled a Patrick - the 'So... us,' line is based off of when my friend Patrick said to my friend, Jaclyn, 'So... you and Willow." I had to do it. :) p.s. hai guise. feedback? even if it's bad. i need to know i'm not writing things that don't mean anything to anybody. listen to snow and lights here.
( i'm a horrible writer; i don't know why i kid myself. )

Pairing/Fandom: lotrips, implied PotC RPS - Monaboyd, Johnny/Orlando (although, nothing's really there in that, and the only reason Johnny Depp was even involved in this was because my fandoms never collide, so I'm just going to work with Dominic's man-crush on my husband. <3) also, sort of AU-y, as Beecake supposedly doesn't and never existed, and sort of a future!fic. really, i don't know what was going through my mind when I was writing this.
Theme: .x. The Conservatory, or, "Making Sweet Music" (<- more or less, this never happened.)
Title: The Pull of What We Can't Give Up Takes Hold
Author/Artist: wilchel
Word Count: 2,968
Summary: "I mean, all that's left in Scotland is memories. And clean clothes."
Disclaimer: Yeaaaaa, I still obviously own them all and make them act this out for me. So realistic! Johnny Depp touched my hand, though. Ha, bitch, ha! ohai, title credit to Terra Naomi, because I miss when she was just some chick on YouTube. :< reference to Monty Python, reference to Band of Horses, and something I interpret to be a reference to my geometry teacher. It's not, though, since I wrote this before the school year started.
A/N: DEAR GOD, I JUST KEPT WRITING AND WRITING AND WRITING AND IT'S LIKE A NOVEL NOW I'M SORRY. MAYBE I SHOULD JUST WRITE 50,000 WORDS OF PWP MONABOYD ANGSTFLUFFSMUT AND CALL IT MY NANOWRIMO AMIRITE. Also, this whole thing was just sort of like a project for me, and the first few paragraphs were handwritten, and after I finished the first draft I went on vacation, printed out all thirty plus pages of this, and edited it by hand (and changed a major plot point to later in the story, which made for re-writing even more stuff by hand), and then typed it all out on the computer. Like, I really dedicated more than five hours to just editing this, jesuschristiamthesaddestpersoniknow. Anyway, it occurred to me in the middle of this that I really moar or less took my two obsessions - Johnny Depp and Monaboyd - and ruined one of them with the other, and it just made me lol lots. Anyway, I really think this was the best possible way I could have wasted the last month of my life, so maybe your tummy will tickle as much as mine did. (oh, and sometimes, get all knotty and angry and blahblahblah.) oh, and hey! it got to the point where i thought that if I threw 13,000+ words dedicated to Monaboyd at everyone in a oneshot, it would be a tad bit intimidating. As the story was already divided up into five parts, I decided to publish this in chapters as I finish putting the final touches on self-beta-ing. when all five chapters are up, I'll post the whole story together, as it was originally written. hurrah. p.s. guise turns out there's six chapters. Sorry for the wait? (I know, I know, it's not exactly excusable.)
( tell me how you feel this week. )

well hai there.
for lack of anything better to do (meaning, i'm putting off doing my laundry for the fifth time this month, and also avoiding my homework), i decided i should update my lj. because, obviously, you all care about what's going on, right?

nanowrimo'09 is coming up! which means, total lack of updates for a while. uhh, i'm going to work on getting the rest of what's written of dnesl updated, and try to get the rest of tpow posted. (i have a last run-through on the second chapter, and i can't update that. as well as the next update of eits. also, oh yea, a really long time ago i noticed some crazy part of me insisted on saying there were five parts of tpow? there's actually six. :) moar for you, i guess?) i know that tpow is long overdue and i'm sorry because, you know, for once, there was actually a few people i promised that too. it was just i dedicated two months to that, and it was really intense and all of a sudden it was just like FML I HATE THIS STORY and i had to walk away. good news is when i was editing it the other day it was just sort of like OH GOD THAT'S ADORABLE. like i legitimately referred to it as 'the cutest thing i've ever written' for a while. then i realized i do that with a lot of things, ahaha. anyway, lack of story updates has a lot to do with random persona obsession/early nano preparation (and my sudden decision that what i wanted to do for nano takes way too long so that'll just be an entirely different project that doesn't involve the constant breaking of the fourth wall that nano entails. anyway, ideas?), et cetera.

gsa SHOULD HAVE WON HOMECOMING HALLWAY DECORATIONS AND I'M REALLY HAPPY FOR YOU AND IMMA LET YOU FINISH, JUNIOR CLASS BOARD, BUT GSA HAD THE BEST HOMECOMING HALLWAY DECORATIONS I HAVE EVER SEEN. fuckmylife. :( (p.s. so sick of people having to go through other people to find out what my sexual orientation is. but so many of my friends tell me about how people ask them if i'm a lesbian or if i'm bisexual, and no has the guts to ask me. at first it was funny and now it's just like brb while i go bash my head into the nearest wall.) also, i really want john to be my new older brother but i feel like that will creep him out if i tell him about it.

my hair IS GOING TO BE BROWN AGAIN, SOON. everyone is like HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK but it's because it's really hard to keep track of while it's growing out so i figured i didn't want to worry about my obnoxiously fast growing hair (i dyed it two months ago and there's already like an inch of roots wtf) and covering up the fact my hair is fugly at the moment.

beecake should really get their asses to the midwest and stop ignoring us chicagoans. i've felt insulted ever since they announced their exclusively east coast concert tour. by the way, they announced that while i was in a gsa meeting and i felt like it was only more evidence toward the undeniable gayness between billy and dom? (HOW MANY FOR A MONABOYD EVIDENCE COMM? very similar to rydenevidence or ryden_evidence. not linked because i'm too lazy to look it up.) you know, us chicagoans are already upset about the fact that fuckin' rio got the olympics; the least they could do is get their little scottish asses over here and play a couple of shows. (they could play in my bathroom! not necessarily because i want billy boyd in my house - far from that, actually - but because i've always wanted to go to bathroom show. +100 if it's in my bathroom) anyway, i know that welshman inside of me HATES SCOTTISH PEOPLE and i should technically HATE BILLY BOYD AND HATE SCOTLAND AND HATE BEECAKE but i don't so uh cake. also at least it's not as bad as john who is scottish AND welsh, so he hates himself. :( (p.s. i just tweet'd '@OfficialBeecake since Chicago didn't get the Olympics, the next best thing would be a couple of Beecake gigs, yeah?' (see my twitter at www.twitter.com/tiswillard) anyway, if it's the amount of fans they have in the chicagoland area, they shouldn't be worried! there are four people who are going that i know if, including me. monica's mom and josh are going because they legitimately enjoy beecake. monica is going - well, i'm not really sure why, but she also serves as my 'translator' if by chance i met billy boyd. we've already discussed this thoroughly and came to the conclusion that i would stumble over my words and lisp a lot and he wouldn't be able to understand me and then monica would hit me and say 'WHAT SHE'S TRYING TO TELL YOU IS THAT SHE THINKS YOU'RE GAY WITH DOMINIC MONAGHAN'. i'll stop now.

homecoming is stupid and not only is the voting rigged, but i couldn't go to the dance (which i had a date for, ily jaclyn <3). instead, my cousin got married. and in the end, i decided i'm glad i went to the wedding because we partied from 6 until 1:30 in the morning and it only stopped then because someone called the cops. also, my stepmom doesn't rememember the better part of the night. and my dad told me a story about when he and my mom were on their honeymoon in kawaii, they met some hot german chicks who liked the b-52s, and then my mom picked the two of them up. i now have a whole new love for my mom.

oh, and my dad and i are cute.



i am surprised by the fact this is actually a fairly decent picture. (p.s. MY BANGS ARE ALMOST LONG ENOUGH, AGAIN.) (p.p.s. i feel like i look my fair share of italian here. i know i don't and i never do, but i pride myself in my italian descent far too much for being only 1/4. but it's the most i am of anything, so... - well, german, too, i think. or maybe it's polish. reference being my nazi coat that's not really a nazi coat but shhh.) (p.p.p.s. there's sort of like an italian club going on in my world history class and i feel like i'm really left out because i'm too shy to mention that i'm 25% italian and OH MY GOD I HAVE SUCH A CRUSH ON MS. FONTE <3)

since this has fandom and story update relevance, it will not be friendslock'd. lucky bitches. (one of these days, i'll get around to going through the shit that needs to be friendslock'd but isn't.)

anyway, gon' go play some band of horses, iron & wine, and beecake on guitar. (SOOOOUUUUUL SWIMMING. i like doing my billy boyd impression for people lol.)

Glittering Love

Willow finished packing. Ever since Jaclyn, her own true love, had been lost at sea, Willow had been sparkly.

There was nothing left for her anymore, nothing made her, all was desu. So today, Valentine's Day, she was going on a boat (MOTHERFUCKER) to become a clever pants.

Just then, there was a monotonous knock at the door. Willow opened it and stood there curiously for a moment, before falling to the floor in a swoon and bruising her finger.

When Willow came to, Jaclyn was holding her tits and looking addicting. "My love," Jaclyn said huskily, "I'm sorry for the arousing shock. I've been shipwrecked on an obsessive island for the last ten years, living like a platypus that just met its mother. I was only rescued last week." She paused. "I lost my dicks in the wreck. Can you still love me?"

Willow could hardly believe her Jaclyn had returned. "I will always love you, dicks or no dicks. Besides, you can cover it up with a bitch."

They embraced tearfully and vowed to never be parted again.

And all was jesus.

Title: Die/Hearbeat
Author: wilchel 
Disclaimer: Title of series is a band name, half of the title of every oneshot is a song name, division name is the name of a movie/album. I was putting it off, but I certainly don't own Billy and Dominic, because I'd be bragging about it if I did.
Fandom: lotrips, generally Monaboyd. (Trying for all NZ; not sure if this will be possible, but I feel like there hasn't been much NZ fic for a while.)
Medium: fan fiction
Pairing: Monaboyd
Characters: Billy, Dominic, mentions of Peter.
Rating: PG, only because I swear. a lot. you know me.
Word Count: 1291
Summary: Dom's arms were the most comfortable things he'd worn to bed for a while.
Author's Notes: Series based on every Explosions in the Sky song I could get my hands on. Fifth favorite band; post-rock is the best inspiration, with no lyrics to limit my imagination. Not sure how long this series will go on until; depending on how many songs by EITS I can find, and I'm not really planning on counting here. If you want to listen to the song and try to figure out where I got the inspiration, I can't find this one on youtube! (Nice promising way to start the series, I know.) Point being, if you really want to hear this song, you're either going to have to download it or go find yourself a copy of the soundtrack for Friday Night Lights. P.S. In the title, name of song comes first, then name of the story.

( DID YOU EAT YOUR FEELINGS? )

Author: wilchel
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the idea and a few of the characters.
Fandom: Harry Potter AU
Medium: fan fiction
Pairing: at this point, none
Characters: Evie, Dar
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1249
Author's Notes: Started this stuff a long time ago. Just finally being posted on LJ.
Previous Chapters: one | two | three

 

( the party's crashing us now. )