Right this very moment, it’s 4:55 a.m. I have a big headache, and I can’t sleep. I started hugging myself during Let’s make a night to remember in bed and thought it might be a better idea to get out of bed again and start writing. Yes, otherwise, I would’ve started touching myself to Bryan Adams.
This guy is driving me crazy. I haven’t changed much when it comes to stupid infatuations. Since I was eleven, I’ve been this way, taking into account the many love stories I wrote when I was a kid. I probably wrote over twenty. Each story was over 60 pages long. It depended on how intense my current crush was. Funnily enough, I considered those novels and was proud.
Yes, cute.
They were mostly handwritten and then typed up. I wrote romantic shit, sentimental shit, sad shit. I considered that as my only way to escape reality. The characters I created were more or less my imaginary friends and lovers. I put myself in the spotlight…on paper.
A few years later, I realised how cheesy I was and tried to get more serious. I used to read Nicholas Sparks. When I compared my love stories to his, I realised that mine weren’t as good, and my stories became shorter. Rather than calling them “novels,” I called them “short stories,” each one reached approximately 5,000 words.
However, I needed stupid infatuations to write. To name a few, there were Rivers Cuomo, Justin Timberlake, Steve Jones and Bryan Adams. The short stories were written between 1999 and 2000. The other week I rewrote the Bryan Adams one titled All I wanted. And no, you won’t ever get to read that.
You may read stuff I wrote from 2004 onwards. If you’d like to read more, I’ll be delighted to send you a few. Well, I was proud of All I wanted. Here’s a paragraph:
>> I had Jazz music running in the background, which created a soothing atmosphere in my workshop, which was also my bedroom. I was constantly taking pictures without any breaks. She got used to it in the meantime and began to loosen up. I saw seduction in her eyes. Now she couldn’t take her eyes off the camera, as if she was after the man behind it. She was excellent and genuine; she didn’t pretend to be sad or happy. Instead, she seized this moment to be vain and alluring. And she was brilliant at it. <<
If you know the video to Let’s make a night to remember, you know what inspired me to write that story. Dear me, that video was shot in 1996. I was 12. I wonder what I had felt back then.
No more sex music tonight.
