u/Outrageous_Figure_64

Not a person that goes outside a comfort as often. I randomly started writing something last night and this is what I have. The writing is still fresh and needs editing and the plot needs much development. I’d love to know what you guys think.
Here’s what I have:

I woke up this morning in a really bad way. My eyes were tired and crusty. My head was throbbing, and I could hear my heartbeat in my eardrums for some odd reason. It gives me anxiety to think of my heart naturally, because it makes me think of my organs, and when I think of my own organs and my own internal body, them just sitting there soaking up like a big heaping soup of something, I start to go crazy. Not really at the thought of others, just my own.
Maybe I’m crazy. I don’t think so honestly. I used to think I was, but not so much anymore. I think it’s natural to think of your red, bloody organs as disturbing, but I’m not disturbed by them, rather just weirded out I have these organic pieces of technology powering my body.
Anyways, I got up from bed after laying down for an hour and some change and walked over to the bathroom and took a leak. It’s been annoying me going to the restroom lately, especially in the morning right when I wake up. Mainly because I’m getting older and it’s becoming more difficult to piss. It’s really something, to watch me piss. I just stand there for half a fucking minute before anything comes out, holding my cock and doing helicopters and shit. It’s really something, especially when my balls slap and make a funny noise.
I turn twenty-seven this year, and I feel it for sure. I know what you’re thinking: “Twenty-seven is young and kinda a sexy year.” Granted, twenty-seven is kinda a sexy sounding number. It even has a nice ring to it. Twenty-seven. But I definitely feel it, especially when I’m trying to take a piss.
I was already behind in the day, it felt. I also had piss dribble dried on my underwear. I went to look for some clean underwear in my drawer in my room, but there wasn’t any left. I’ve been way behind on a lot of stuff lately, especially laundry for that matter. Worst fucking thing to ever do in your life is laundry.
I went into my roommate Derrick’s room to look for some underwear to borrow. I knew he wouldn’t be in there because the fucker goes to work at five in the morning for some fucked reason. He’s a glassblower and naturally a morning person. His room is also covered in power metal band posters. He doesn’t even listen to cool metal, just bad Euro-trash that calls itself metal. It makes me kinda hate the guy, to be completely honest with you.
Derrick, he’s kind of an oddball to say the least. I mean, I know I’m kind of an odd guy myself, going into my roommate Derrick’s room to steal his underwear to put on my body, for which will cup me as it did him, but that doesn’t matter. He’s still more of an oddball. He listens to European power metal, for fuck’s sake.
There was this one time back in high school, in the tenth grade. Derrick and I had a class together because me and him go way back actually. We’ve known each other just about our whole lives, it seems.
Once class was over, we walked over to the restrooms in the common area. We both started to piss. Also mind you, this was when I was only sixteen, so my piss was a straight garden hose with no delay. I fucking miss that feeling, to tell you the truth.
Anyways, I got done pissing, but I noticed Mr. Oddball Derrick still pissing. He had this very… let’s say… effeminate stream to his piss. It sounded like a fucking kitchen sink in the winter or some shit so the pipes wouldn’t freeze. Yeah, he was tinkling that shit out like a ninety-year-old fucking man.
Derrick was also the type of guy to pull his pants all the way down to his ankles when he pissed. His underwear and everything. It’s crazy, but it’s kinda funny, especially when a random kid walks in and just sees Derrick’s pimple ass. It shocked the hell out of me when I first saw it, but it’s just Derrick being Derrick.
Once this kid, James Tran — a real prick. I mean, he wasn’t the worst kid in the world, but he was an honors kid, and he didn’t like regular kids at all. Me and Derrick were definitely regular kids in school. James wouldn’t sit with regular kids or even be seen talking to one. It’s fucked up, but regular kids are regular kids for a reason.
Anyways, one day, as I was waiting for Derrick to finish his four-hour piss session, James Tran walked in and immediately came face to face with pimple-ass Derrick in all its glory. It’s bony, raw-chicken-ass glory.
I remember James just standing there, holding his black Five Star branded notebook binder with the fucking colored dividers and everything. Remember: honors kid.
James was just staring at his ass in utter shock and disbelief.
Then Derrick finished up his piss and pulled up his pants from his ankles. He looked right over at James Tran and said, “You can jerk off next time.”
James didn’t know what the fuck to say. He dropped his black notebook binder along with a pack of fresh unsharpened pencils that spilled from the binder. I know for sure the fucker never shared those pencils when someone asked. I just know.
James picked up his pencils, or at least attempted to. He was a real clumsy guy, James was. I would’ve helped him pick them up, but I wasn’t gonna touch the floor most definitely covered in piss and shit. Plus I felt sort of sorry for him. It was kinda sad seeing him struggle so much with picking them up. I mean, they went to every corner of the school bathroom for fuck’s sake.
Then he kept dropping them because he was sweaty and nervous naturally. His wire-rimmed glasses fell on the floor as he was putting his head down toward the pencils on the ground. He seemed really nervous and just wanted to get the hell out of there. That, mixed with the questionable bodily fluids on the aging bathroom floor, made the pencils sticky.
I really don’t even know why James stuck around in the first place. They’re only pencils, for God’s sake.
Derrick’s bare pimpled ass really threw that guy off, it seemed.
He finally got all the pencils from the piss-and-shit-covered chipped tile floor and left without using the bathroom, but before he left, I turned and said to him, “You forgot your glasses.”
He froze in the doorway and
quickly turned around and picked them up and said, “Disgusting.”
He said it like he meant it too, with true disgust for your existence. His eyes really cut deep into you as he said it. They really fucking did too.
That really hurt me for some reason, and I felt like bawling and screaming, slashing his stupid twig neck a hundred times over or ripping his throat out with my hands. Some wild shit of that nature. But I’m not gonna do that. I’m too much of a coward, to be perfectly clear.
I’m the type of guy to stab you in the heart or nipple, or ankle, I don’t fucking know. I’d probably go crazy in that situation, then immediately apologize.
I always show a fraction of what I actually feel in most interactions with people I’m not the most familiar with. That was one of them.
If I showed my true emotions to how James actually made me feel in that second, then I wouldn’t know how to handle all of it. I’d probably literally explode all over the fucking school bathroom. Then my guts and blood would be all over the bathroom along with the piss and shit.
James left the school bathroom and me and Derrick just looked at each other and laughed.
Real charming guy, that James was.
I’m pretty sure he’s dead now, anyways.
I had a long day ahead of me, and I was not feeling it at all, man.
I finally got Derrick’s underwear on me and went back to my room to put on some clothes. I never know what the fuck to put on, if you want the truth. I always hate that I’ll look like one of those idiots who color-match their outfit, you know? With the red socks, and red shirt, and red shoes. Just… red.
I put on a grey long-sleeve shirt with black stripes and a pair of blue jeans. It was freezing outside since it’s the middle of fucking February. The kind of freezing that’ll make your piss turn into glass. You’d probably start bleeding from your cock hole if you tried to piss outside.
Since it was freezing, I grabbed a coat that was also in the closet. My grandfather’s old coat. My dad gave it to me a while back, before he was dying, but I’ll get into that a little later.
The coat was a navy blue WWII sailor’s peacoat. It had these big fat lapels on it that made you feel like a mobster wise guy.
You should see me and Derrick wearing it. We do these impressions when we’re all fucked up, going, “I want some gabagool up my ass,” or some other sentence with no coherence.
Derrick would turn to me with his eyes bloodshot and spit flying everywhere, trying to do his best wise guy impression, as I’m just shoving cold cuts in my mouth, yelling I’m gonna shove it up my asshole or something.
The coat was also very warm since it was made of kersey wool. It always smelled like cinnamon candies for some odd reason, but I love it. It makes me grin.
I was almost ready to head out the front door. I had a job interview to get to — it's my fifth job in the last eight months. I owed money to Derrick for rent, and I was behind about five hundred bucks. He said it's okay and to just take my time. I knew he didn't mean it; he's not exactly a rich guy. He spends money on bullshit, mostly just booze and beer.
I only had eighty-nine dollars in my bank account, along with thirty-two dollars in cash in my wallet. I was surely fucked if I didn't get a new job and get my shit together soon.
I finally unwillingly walked out the door. As soon as I did, the freezing wind immediately stabbed my fucking guts open.