When Did Time Grow Young?

Time.
Never-ending. Ever present. Infinite.

As time goes on we grow old; this I'm sure you have realised. Time grants us with experience, knowledge and wisdom so that we may pass on the ways of the world, to those who have not yet experienced it. Our actions, taken in every single moment of time, create our life and due to time being constant and our bodies being resistant we have found a balance that allows us to right our wrongs. To balance something that wasn't in our nature.

This, however, seems to be changing. Since college I have started to see people at my age or younger going through things that should not happen for decades and in some cases never at all. When did time grant us with 18 years to experience the horrors of a lifetime?

It was weird enough, initially, to hear the amount of people who have separated parents. Next it was seeing the number of people who have thought their life so bad that self-harm was the only way for them to seize control. All this seems to have spiralled out of control. Being kicked out of the house, being hit by parents, losing parents and losing friends.
Friends.
Death is never welcomed at an age where Grandparents still send presents at birthdays.

The hardest thing I go through is hearing someone I love cry. In pain or sorrow. I find it hard to hate anything but myself. Yet hearing what my friends go through makes me angry. No-one at 16 should be kicked out of their house, no-one at 14 should be going to hospital because they attempted suicide, no-one should ever be told that they're a whore by their parents, no-one should have to lose everything they hold dear without the time to right any wrongs or truly show the love they feel.

Yet this IS happening.
Time is not on our side.
Time counts down to a moment that will change our lives.

The people I know are now living a whole life in such a short expanse of theirs that they are having to cope with things they have no idea how to cope with. No idea how to right the wrongs or understand why such wrongs took place.

The main problem with this though is not that we don't have enough time. It's that time has not given us enough of itself for us to realise that we can overcome anything. When someone says, I want out. They say it because they don't think they can get past their problem or that they're scared of solving it because their problem has become a part of them.

If the actions in time had been spent kindly then people would know that they can defeat any obstacle.

But time is not kind. It itself is an obstacle. And is making us learn every hard lesson at once.

Don't give up though, because then we'd be giving into something that is there to make us stronger.

Perseus Evades Me

12th August.
Cold.
The wind whipped the face of a lone man.
Standing in the street, darkness swam all around him.
Rain hit his skin and face, as he looked up into the endless depths of the night sky.
Waiting.
The church started to strike midnight. The tower, a menacing figure on the skyline. It was ugly and knew that even if it were beautiful it would not compare with a shooting star.
For that was what he was waiting for. A glimpse of trailing light. His hope.

Every year he had done the same, and every year he failed. He did not know why he continued to try but something within him forced him to do it. His hope had turned to despair over the years. Constant ridicule from Perseus who continued to evade him.
The ground was damp. The tarmac glistened. The sound of traffic met his ears and he tried to close it from his mind; everything from his mind. Looking for peace. Tranquillity and equilibrium.

This universe is not in balance. Always shifting. A mystery of incomprehensible magnitude. Yet still we look up to the night sky, at the stars, believing we can find reason and understanding for our lives.

He waited.
Shooting stars still escaping him.
Although alone, he was not lonely. Far from it, cherishing his friends more than anything. His wish, in fact, was for one of those he loved. It was not an extravagant wish. Not for personal gain; nor of worthy acclaim. It was personal and he felt he was indebted.
A birthday wish.
Yet for all of his friends, he still lived for the moments he had alone. A time for reflection. Rarely in happiness...rarely out of depression.
But in this time he knew he would be accepted in whatever state he arrived in. When leaving his state may not be any different, sometimes it is worse but it is important all the same.
To confront the world, its misfortune and unforgiving nature. To battle the earth, sea & sky for answers.

Alone he stood.
Staring up at the sky.
For that shooting star.
To pass him by.
A wish at the tip of his tongue.

He closed his eyes, and let the entire world disappear.
Tonight was not his night, but one year he will see.
And his wish will be told. To grace the air with its words. And find their way to whom ever was the object of his hope and thinking.

Untitled

The rain bounced off the pavement, its colour being mimicked by the sky. It's dull and depressing tone. The look of lost souls on passers by, each being judged by a boy behind a window. Safe from the rain but still as lost as any, in the depths of his thought.
Bagpipes wafted on the air to his ears, disturbing his train of thought. Music in the town's streets was not odd, nor was it common- but on the streets within the grasp of Welsh borders, the bagpipes were completely out of place. Like himself he wondered.
The incessant drown of notes murdered Amazing Grace and even Auld Lang Syne, it was irritating to hear such blasphemy. Even worse it was not escapable.
No longer did he gaze through the window to the outside world, but stared at the monotone wall. Unable to secure its place on any spectrum, unable to care. His life seemed to lead the same life as the colour of his wallpaper. This comparison made him angry.
Anger led to pain.
And then not only was his soul lost, so too was his mind, heart and body.

London

My beginning attempts at a Sartorialistic future.
In London, on a hot day.
Loved the guys laid back demeanour, and the backdrop that fitted his clothes perfectly.

Untitled

Once again an off-track meander. Thought I would do another scene that was a bit more risqué than the last, just to see if I could adapt myself to a different situation.



The door closed with a soft click. The lights were dimmed. Shower running.

I could feel someone else in the room but couldn't see them. Couldn't hear them. My heartbeat and the shower seemed like they were shouting at me.

Then, out of hiding, a finger ran down my back. I turned.
He stood in just a towel.
His perfectly sculpted body, a matt tone. Obviously he hadn't been in the shower. Shadows highlighted the contours of his torso, on his smooth olive skin.
Black, wavy and unkempt hair shone in the light. A defined jaw, accentuated by his stubble. A man of men.
However most enthralling were his eyes. Eyes of deep blue, deeper than the sea and bluer than the sky. They encapsulated every possible blue. Vanity had no place, he was so obviously beautiful.

Our lips connected, immediately I knew how the evening was to unfold. Slow long kisses.
I ran my finger down his neck, to his chest. He was warm. I followed the form of his muscles. Held him close, feeling the power in his arms.

Grabbing my ass, he said in a dark, almost sinister, voice what he was going to do to me. His voice alone turned me on, but his words made me hot as soon as they registered in my mind.
A hard stare into his eyes. No love to be found.
Lust.
Anger.
Power.
He bit my neck, I craned it so that the pleasure was prolonged. To my ear, light tugs. I closed my eyes.

He ripped down my skirt, not caring for the zip. Pulled me into him. I could feel him hard against my leg.
My shirt was off me with ease, muscles tightening. Buttons spraying his chest. Masculinity simply poured out of him.
My mind was wild.
I ran my hand under the towel. Felt his hard shaft.

Right here. Right now. I was begging. Please god now.

Aggression pulsed through his veins, I could see it in his eyes. Taking off my pants he picked me up like I was a feather. I wrapped my legs around his hips.
He pushed me into the wall. Pressed hard against my clitoris. A stab of pleasure.
He held it. I pushed against him. I saw his muscles bulge. My eyes widened as he rammed inside me.
A rip of pain.
He did not care. Heartless. Beautiful.
I plunged my nails into his back. His cold stare glaring at me. Not to stop, but to show his control.
Hard thrusts. My back, moving up and down on the wall. Wallpaper rubbing my skin. Grunts of effort.
I bit my lip. Eyes rolled upwards. Nails gripped. Broke flesh.
He continued. Fucking me like a rag doll. Thrust after hard thrust. Raw power. I was squeezing my eyes shut, trying to rival whatever I was feeling. Pain. Pleasure. A fine line.
I was going numb, dizzy. My pussy was on fire.
Still going, my back arched. His hand came round to my spine, pulled me in. Skin on skin. His stubble scratching my chest.
It slowed and I grinded on his cock. Both our heads tilted back.
On my feet, I almost fell. Trembling. His body glistened. Candles throwing shadows across him. I licked his chest. His sweat the sweetest salt.
I grabbed him and led him to the still running shower.
I strutted. Ran my hand along the curve of my ass. Teasing him. He came up next to me. I felt him against my lower back. I craved for more. Hungry.
The shower was steamy. As hot and wet as I.
The water flicked off his skin. Muscles polished. The embodiment of male perfection. I ran my finger down his obliques to his manhood.
He tensed. Closed his eyes. Control had switched sides. I knelt down and took him in my mouth.
I looked up, so he could see the whites of my eyes. Starting slow, I concentrated underneath. My tongue doing the work.
Then I took it all. Fast. He grabbed my hair. Groaned. I massaged his shaft. Head. Always looking up.
He grabbed my arms and pulled me away. He stood me up and let the water fall on us both.
He guided himself back into my pussy. Hands running along my body. His touch life fire. Pure white teeth biting my nipples.
I squirmed. Went on my tiptoes, feeling every inch of his cock inside me.
Assaulting my g-spot. I realised I was screaming.
I moved against him, making the most of each thrust. Long. Hard. Fast.
More nail in the back. His muscled tightening. Jaw clenching.
Kisses to beat all kisses. He bit my top lip.
Told me he was reaching his peak.
I felt the warmth spread through my whole body. I quivered.
The shower went cold. Sharp intakes of breath. The warmth of his skin. The ice of the water.
My nipples were as hard as my skin was sensitive. He took advantage.
Stroked my skin. I trembled.
Thrusting again, my pussy now going numb.
I screamed.
Groaned.
Moaned.
Squirmed.
Clenched my fists.
Bit his skin.
Anything to withstand it.
My mind was disorientated, struggling to compute what was happening. My body was an inferno, every nerve exploding.

We stood.
Heads touching.
Heavy breathing. Chests rising.

The only sound I could hear was my heartbeat and the water bouncing off our skin. Shouting at me.
I let the moment wash over me.
Heaven on earth.

Release

This is different to what I normally post, but as no one reads these it doesn't really matter does it :) The idea came after reading a book that never released its sexual tension...so I thought I would do it for them.

Her silhouette in the doorway showed her body to be that of a Goddess, and even that did not do her justice. Tall and slim, curves putting straight lines to shame. Her legs endless. She started toward me, one bare footed step after each perfect bare footed step. No sound. No music. But there was dance in her step.

Light began to bathe her face; high cheek bones, perfectly sculpted nose and hair that fell in dark brown waves, drifting as walked.
She came closer, her whole body in the light now. Her neck gave way to her chest and then the most beautiful silk dress which was draped over her shoulders, made of the most beautiful emerald green I had ever set eyes upon. It lay so carefully across her breasts, clung to her waist and fell at her hip. It swayed. Glinted in the light.

I wanted her.

She reached me -her eyes, I noticed, as green as the dress she wore. I lost myself in them and did not care. Her beauty could make the world weep.

She leaned in towards me, the scent of flowers drifted to my nose. I did not know what kind of flowers they were but it did not matter; I closed my eyes and took the smell in, never wanting to smell anything else in the world again.

She whispered in my ear... 'My name is Gabriella.'

It was spoken with a Spanish accent, I could picture her lips rolling on the ls. Her name played across my tongue for a few moments more.

Gabriella.

My hands lay on her hips. Opening my eyes I was, once again, staring into hers. They twinkled, stars unable to compete.
We stood, bodies so close we had become one. The balcony doors were open, the moon adding to our embrace.
Her lips were soft, her touch light. Her tongue dancing with mine. I slipped her dress off her shoulders, it fell without a sound, running like water across Gabriella's skin.

She kissed my chest, taking off my shirt. Undid my belt and played at my underwear. I looked up at the ceiling, shut my eyes and smiled.

The moon was highlighting her body, everything so perfect in the dimmed light. She led me to the bed. Her hips swayed.
I ran my finger along her leg, up her calf, round the inside of her knee and up to her waist. My touch like a feather- goosebumps appeared, a slight shiver. I looked up, her eyes were closed.
Slowing, I rose up to her stomach, curving left then right along her skin.

It was like parchment, ready for my writers hand. I would write upon her a new novel. Not the first nor the last- I would be foolish to believe it so- but hopefully one to stay with her, to run through her mind over and over.

My fingertip ran along the inside of her hip, a sharp intake of breath. Gabriella started to caress my torso, following the contours of my skin. Her touch sent shivers down my spine. I was now at her breasts; I do not understand their beauty but something about them makes the one of the most beautiful creations to be seen in this world. I gazed at them. Her nipples perfectly placed, her breasts pert and smooth.

I wished to be selfish, prayed for it. Just so I could hold her forever.

I kissed in between her breasts, up to her neck. She stretched, let out a gasp. I could feel her warmth radiate off her skin; seeping into mine, a whole new feeling, fresh like her breath.
I met her eyes again. Mine longed for more. Desperation. How ugly that must have looked, I felt ashamed to taint the beauty which surrounded me. Gabriella's eyes were no longer of emerald. They were made up of venom, evil, but it did not phase me; in fact it enticed me. I wanted to share in her dark side.

My tongue spiralled inwards on one of her breasts, until I reached her nipple.
I flicked it.
Bit it.
She moaned.
Grasping at my torso, it felt like she was imploring me to delve further.

I roamed her body, lust taking control. Desire.

At her groin, I massaged her outer lips, constantly staring into her eyes. She moaned and arched her back, her eyes wide. They were so magnificent.

Another stroke of her lips, they glistened in the light. I placed my palm flat against her pussy. It was hot. I trapped her lips between my fingers at the same time. Moaning that sounded like verse trembled from her mouth.

I kissed her again. Harder this time, she grinded herself against my hand. Her body writhing.

"Fuck me".

It was a whisper in my ear. The Spanish accent racing in my mind.
Once grotesque, the word had become perfect and eloquent. A resemblance of the rest of Gabriella's form.

Pulling myself over her, she groped at my cock. I thanked whichever God was listening. Her pussy, wet and hot, met me and warmth spread through my whole body. The pace was rythmic, two bodies entwined in a waltz. Then the tempo quickened. Gabriella's touch was no longer light. I could feel her nails in my back. Pain became pleasure.
Thrusts, going deeper.
Harder.
She groaned.
Screamed.

It was like a drug. The highest of highs.
Ecstasy.
A taboo had become an art.

Sweat twinkled on her body. Our breathing rapid. Chests heaving.
The world has shrunk to the size of our bed. We owned it all.

Thrust after thrust. Her body writhed still. Our eyes locked. My blue, Gabriella's green. I told myself again how magnificent they were. My body exploding in pleasure. My mind had no set place, it had no boundaries, it was racing round corners it had never been round before.

We peaked.

The most glorious event in the world. Our world. Unequalled by anything else. Her scream was music at work. Her nails gave one final stab. Then...relaxation.

She trembled. My fingers skipped across her skin.

She gasped. Sighed. I held her close, bodies pressed against each other. My body was on fire, I felt like the God I had thanked before.

Then we lay back, bodies sprawled atop the sheets.
Gabriella stroked my cheeks, my lips. I closed my eyes.

Gabriella.

Body Lust

The summer is coming and beaches will be full of topless men; the fat, the flat, the toned and the mind bogglingly ripped guy who has just ruined your life. So why is there this craze about the perfect body? And what can be done about it?

The answer to the first question is probably not well known; Mark Wahlberg. If that name drop still leaves you lost do not fear, I shall explain.

Mark Wahlberg is known mostly for his acting career, with roles in: Boogie Nights, Planet of the Apes, The Italian Job, Max Payne and The Lovely Bones. Now none of these films scream out ‘I AM THE REASON FOR THE SIX PACK REVOLUTION’ but he is. In his youth Mark stole cars…repeatedly, on ‘TopGear’ he admitted stealing one man’s car about 14 times, and in one jail sentence decided that he would solely concentrate on working his abs and in 1992 Calvin Klein featured a billboard for their underwear which featured Mark exclusively – and so the lust for a six pack was born.
Now the ultimate body is thrown in our faces every time we enter a supermarket or newsagent, thanks to ‘Men’s Health’. However those greasy grooves and bulging biceps don’t always look like that; a possibility brought up by ‘The Times’ who recently published an article called ‘You, too, can’t have a body like this’. It goes on to talk about Daniel Martin, no stranger to a front cover shoot, who says that he has a routine that he follows before a photo-shoot; you would think that this would be 9 to 5 in the gym, protein shakes and then back to the gym yes? No. Well okay he needs to be ripped in the first place, but before the shoot he will stop exercise altogether for 48 hours and open a bottle of wine to drink alone. Then a ‘six-day carbohydrate-depletion diet, in which he eats little more than chicken and broccoli, leaves his muscles weak and his brain so starved of glycogen, its source of fuel, that he feels dizzy and disorientated when he stands up.’, leaving him barely able to walk. Martin says “I’ve been on castings for fitness magazines where there are six or seven models who are so groggy and out of it that they need to grab a chair to sit down and literally can’t speak.”
Yet all this doesn’t make much difference if you aren’t already in tip top condition.

Another masterpiece in the abdominal region was the film release of 300 in 2006, which depicted, not so truthfully but quite incredibly, Spartans in all their glory…which consists of no top and a sword. Gerard Butler was the King of Sparta in this epic film, and quite rightly as I don’t think anyone would want to mess with someone who was so unbelievably toned he scared me on screen! The casts training regime, it turns out, was quite rigorous. When I say quite – I mean like torture:

Pull-ups – 25 reps
Deadlifts with 60kg – 50 reps
Push-ups – 50 reps
24" box jumps – 50 reps
Floor wipers – 50 reps
Single-arm clean-and-press with 36lbs kettlebell – 50 reps
Pull-ups – 25 reps

It may not sound like much but you aren’t supposed to have a rest in between each exercise and these guys were completing it in less than 20 minutes. If the Spartans of old were as pumped up as the ones in the film I have no idea why the Persians tried to fight them, I think most sane people would have just let them be; all be it the Persian guy in the film is a big black man who claims he is a God – with an extremely amusing voice.

So who else is to blame? Too many to look at in detail…Diego Forlan gave us a great showing in the final and semi-final of the Europa League, other models, girls and mainly I think ourselves (because we want to impress the girls).

What can we do about it then? Well as a teenager that question varies. Many people believe that weightlifting in your teens will stunt your growth and cause damage to your bones etc. However this isn’t the case, training with weights will not stunt your growth yet it won’t be much benefit either unless you’re in the late stages of puberty. Even then though you are not at your best, as growth plates in arms and legs don’t fully fuse until about 21 so our bones are slightly weaker and more susceptible to injury…that doesn’t mean to say you will get injured though. This means that going to the gym is a viable option, but you need to be going to the gym for the right amount of time; 4 or 5 sessions a week for 2 hours are more is a definite no. A little bit everyday is likely to get you further than wasting your life in the iron room, in fact 2-3 intense sessions for approx. 45 minutes has been ‘proven’ to make you better in the sack…enough said there I think.
The next option is the supplements. ‘Maximuscle’ offer a humongous range of different shakes and powders and bars and drinks but overall which ones are best? And what are the cons?
Well ‘Maximuscle’ have done a fantastic job by saying that you need to buy something, yet you also need to buy this for after, this during, this before and this all the way through. For muscle building power though, you should know this from your Biology classes, you need protein and carbs. Lots and lots of the stuff; the recommended protein intake is 2g protein to every kg you weigh, so Protein shakes are probably the most easy obtainable and easy to use answer to your problems. You must be wary of the disadvantages though.
• Firstly, they quite often taste disgusting.
• They are also not recommended for anyone under 16 (same goes for all supplements, with age guidelines differing).
• They can cause bloating and gas
• If you don’t eat enough fibre then all that protein is going to make you run for those laxatives
• Dehydration, which can lead to kidney stones and that’s just unwanted pain
• Osteoporosis, which is weakening of bones making them more likely to be fractured and broken. So all your lifting could be doing more damage than good.
• It’s also been known to increase acne…and we do not want that.

So we have two options explored so far and to me they are the only two worth considering. Natural or supplements (in moderation). After these you get stupid options like steroids, which are banned from most sports and also I hate thought of putting anything in me that has so many disadvantages, check this website out for a list of the lovely things: http://www.musclenet.com/steroid.htm

Recently I also heard of a substance which is basically like glue, which is pumped into the muscle tissue to make it look as though it was huge. Although you wouldn’t gain strength you’d look pumped…literally! But the reason I heard about this substance was that it has been known to ‘pop’ and basically obliterate any muscle you did have. This makes me feel as though it’s another method to put aside – although reportedly it’s what our good old Governor of California, Terminator, Kindergarten Teacher Cop person used when he became; MR. UNIVERSE! You should see the photos; it’s quite disgusting most of the time.

So as I said at the beginning, the summer is coming and so many of us males are going to be made to feel inferior by the site of a peer looking like they were born to be the next John Claude Van Damme or to fight David Haye.
In my opinion, I would try and get ‘buff’ the natural way. Work intense routines that don’t last an age, do them regularly but not 24/7. We weren’t all designed to have a stomach like a Spartan, shoulders like a rugby player or pectorals like Arnie; thus we shouldn’t expect to get them. We also can’t expect to work out for a week and be too hot to trot, you need to be committed.

Remember though, not all girls’ legs quiver at the sight of a hot body and can you really be bothered to go to all the effort?!