i hate penelope. shes a little douche bag. :| i love dylan though xD he reminds me of me

Dylan is never going to be anything but too skinny if he keeps skipping meals. I found myself counting how often he's eating (three and a half meals in 60 hours). At least Daniel got him that spaghetti.

In chapter two, I hated everyone but Dylan. I could really feel his anger and sorrow. In chapter three we see that Penelope really does love him and that she's having to put up with her own garbage. Dylan isn't helping matters any.

At the moment I don't see how Dylan is going to fall for Daniel. But I've got an open mind on the matter.

Some little things I hope get explained are:
1) Why do they lock their gate if everyone knows where the key is and uses it when they visit? People come up to the door.
2) Why did Daniel insist that he couldn't trust Dylan home alone, if Daniel didn't even bother to lock the front door?
3) One of my uncles once threw away my doll while I was at school after I left her in the living room, but he had been in an accident then a coma for nine months, so he was brain damaged; what's Ben's excuse?

I looked up Millaa Millaa. The area is beautiful. I was quite surprised by the forests. I was under the mistaken impression that Australia was just a huge desert with a thin strip of livable area along the coast.

I look forward to the next chapter.

I like this :P Wth... Maybe because Dylan is such an identifiable person :L Which says too much about me... x

This is a really interesting beginning. Dylan really reminds me of Holden from Catcher in the Rye (I love that book) and I am now off to read more!

you need to update this story PRONTO! I like this story alot and I especially liked this chapter. My emotions went up and down throughout the entirety of it. I am completely surprised by Dylan not sticking a knife in Ben. I am more than slightly possessive of my stuff and if someone had come into my room and thrown something out that I valued then I would have punched them in the face ( no joke that actually happened to me once). It looks like Pen thinks she has a good explanation for leaving. I wonder what it is. I am not sure any explanation would be good enough for abandoning your brother to a serious crappy situation but still somewhat curious to hear it. And to hear it you need to update!! srry don't mean to be pushy but this is some good stuff, dont give up on it

haha, i actually like ffs, sounds nice. I don't mind learning new ways to swear at life. It's not confusing, but it would be really nice if I learned all this aussie slang, cuz it would be awesome, in my opinion.
But, anyways, very excited for explanations to be explained, whatever that means, and such and so forth, haha.
Please continue writing.

First off I have to apologize for not reviewing sooner. I actually read this chapter a while ago now, but when I read your other story I remembered that I didn't review this one. I love the moments between Dylan and Daniel, because I know something is going to happen some where down the line. I'm eagerly looking forward to future updates.

And so this is what it has come to, you think, as you look around at the throngs of people walking past you in a daze. You watch the happy reunions, the sad departures and wonder what exactly it is that you’re meant to be feeling at this precise moment. This very finite moment in time, your head abuzz with thoughts of an indecipherable nature, your palms sticky from nervousness, your breath coming out in short gasps and you feel the old phobia creeping up on you. You thought you had finally beaten the fear of crowds, the fear of possessed bodies crawling over the face of this earth like maggots over a decomposing corpse, but you thought wrong, another assumption in a long line of misconceptions. Because at the end of the day, this is what we are really, you think; one big decomposing planet.

In the age of cyber-sex and pseudo-love and faux-relationships, nothing seems real anymore. It’s as if humans really have just saturated down to electric impulses scurrying along their nervous systems. Everything is an impulse, nothing is sought out or planned anymore, it’s all about instant intimacies and brief ecstasies; everything has become so packaged and everything is for sale. Humans walking around with ‘For Rent’ signs across their hearts and for those slightly more adventurous, those who think they have the rest of their lives planned, well they might even negotiate a sale with you. But nothing is for free. You’ve found that out the hard way. This isn’t the ‘70s and the concept of ‘free love’ died a lonely death at the turn of the century. Love isn’t for free. You’ve paid the price; you still are.

And then you think, slightly more optimistically, which is as alien a notion to you as conceding has ever been, that perhaps this is just the aftermath talking, perhaps this is just the heartbreak, the weariness of a road long travelled and perhaps you’re just in the mood for metaphors that might give some meaning to your existence. And perhaps she will turn around any moment and bitter words will be forgotten and all the resentment will be lost in a flurry of limbs as they grapple and clutch and grasp and cling and hot apologies will be murmured against necks and you will be insisting you carry her bags for her back to the car even though your eyes will be blurry with tears that could only be borne of relief. Another disaster averted. Another departure delayed. And just like countless times before, you will think that everything is finally sorted, it’s All Going To Be Okay.

While this little fantasy plays out in your head, she has already queued up to get her boarding pass. Your heart lurches somewhere against your rib cage and you wonder if it’s appropriate to go join her at the desk, smile at the attendant perhaps and make a show of it one last time with feeling as they say. Then again you’ve never really had a penchant for what’s appropriate and what’s not and maybe that’s why you’re here waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for a clue as to what exactly it is that you’re meant to do now.

Everything that could have been said already has and for once in your life it feels like you’ve come to an end. That you’re not a Work In Progress anymore. You’ve had your twists and the suspense has been overrun and the sex has become repetitive and without feeling and that your life has spun inexorably out of control out of no one else’s but your own doing. The only thing missing right now from the blank page that is your life is the definitive The End.

Of course, it all feels rather raw, tender, and sore – you feel like you’ve been quite hard done by, that you did everything possible to salvage the tethers of your relationship. But it’s time you stop lying to yourself, don’t you think? The departure gates are only a five minute walk away and soon she’ll be past the security point where only the lucky, fleeing, passengers are allowed through and that will be that.

And maybe in a few years’ time when the remnants of your relationship will be but a hazy memory, you might be able to talk about it at dinner parties. You might even raise a toast to her and pretend you’ve even forgotten her name it was so insignificantly long ago and you might turn to the blurs of faces whose names you don’t care to know and say, “Oh we both knew it was the end. A mutual parting of ways, so to speak. We were both very mature about it.”

You were anything but. You left no stone unturned, no hurt left alone, no wound unscratched until you were both exhausted from the blow of every word flung carelessly, every promise broken, every weakness exploited. If ever you were in doubt of your own divinity, the very conceit that you were above the rest, that maybe what you had was more meaningful than the average; it was all a rather rude awakening.

“This is it.”

You almost miss her voice amongst the cacophony of sounds around you. And you have this inexplicable, or maybe not so much, urge to turn around and ask her, “Is this really it?” But you don’t. You promised yourself there will be no fanfare, no heart-break saga, and no romanticism of the fictional kind. You both are long past such frivolities of the heart.

“Alright then.”

And you almost laugh at the absurdity of your words, of how feeble they sound and even how remorseless and empty. You wish it hadn’t turned out this way. You wish this wasn’t the end, or at least this wasn’t really the end you had imagined. It involved an illegal amount of confetti and dazzling white and even a choir of pre-pubescent boys behind the altar.

“Look, I have to go.”

You sigh, nod, and reach towards her. Arms at the ready to bid their final farewell to a warmth that you thought you would be privy to for the rest of your life. But she steps back, her hair falling in front of her face and her hands clutching her bag defensively. Alright then, you think, whatever she wants.

“Do you want me –”

“No.”

You don’t even know what I was going to offer, you think maliciously, but you let it go. Love is learning to let go. But you don’t love anymore so why should you have to let go, you think.

“Goodbye.”

“Yeah, bye.”

And she’s walking away. Walking out. The End. And it all feels so incomplete, suspension in animation, a cliff-hanger of an end and you almost expect, need, her to turn around and tell you it’s all wrong. This is all wrong and you two were always meant to be together but she’s already through the security gates and she’s already picked up her back from the conveyer belt and she’s already lost in the crowd.

She didn’t turn back.

Standing there, waiting for the rest of your life to kick in, maybe it’s about time you turned back too. That dinner party where all is in jest and it doesn’t quite hurt as much and where you can pretend without being called out, well that dinner party is still a few years ahead, you have to start moving towards it.

Towards fixing yourself.


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Eh, I dunno. I guess I'll go back to writing the actual story now. Talk to you in a bit, love you, get some writing done yourself.

Oh. My. Fucking. God. Well...'oh my' WOULD be fucking 'god' if, you know...yeah, there are some BITS missing, but, you know. BLINKY BILL! I HEARTED BLINKY BILL! I was a bad child with yowies, too. I ate them in the shop before mum bought them...half because I didn't know I wasn't supposed too, and half because I wanted the friggin toy damnit! I was such a rebel. A toy-demon rebel. Ben is a dickhead. Dan is still rad (not sure if I've said that yet...). Penelope makes me want to punch her...but mostly because she's right. People tend to annoy me when they're right all the time. It's hard to argue with people when they keep making sense.
Oh! TOTALLY HAVE TO BE THE FIRST TO ASK! What's the title mean? WOOHOO! Do I get points for asking about the title first? I hope so! Anyway, I actually just wanted to say the title reminded me of (you guessed it...) some quote thingy I read awhile back. It's not a quote, I think it's a saying but meh...the one that's like "A fish may love a bird, but where would they live? Darling, I'll just have to give you wings." Or however it goes. I don't actually want to know what the title means. I figure you'll explain it later if it's actually relevant/important. I just figured I'd be the first one to ask, seeing as so many people asked about SPIN's title. Wow...I've run out of chapters to review. Unless I can be bothered going and reviewing Wonderwall...or Behind Broken Windows...but...I'm way too lazy...oh look! there are buttons for me to press to add you to my favourites! WEE! I don't even have to be...unlazy? W/e. I didn't even notice. See? I really do get distracted easily, if I can't even notice something on the screen...anywho! Till next chapter and/or review~! You may finally be rid of my annoyingness! Temporarily, anyway. Toorah!

Okay, I'm actually going to write a review about the chapter for once. No distractions. *Puts serious face on*. Now I feel like a dork...I don't think I even have a serious face...I just have a 'I'm-not-paying-attention-to-you-cause-I'm-paying-attention-to-something-else' kind of face...well...not that I actually know, because I'm paying attention to something else...gah! I'm already doing it! STORY!

I think I may have said this in one of my 5 million SPIN reviews, but meh...I really really like how you write from your characters perspective! Like...there are even little things that you chuck in as a reaction or as a thought or as a...something or other...that just build on the character SO MUCH and make them so...life-like? I dunno but whenever I'm reading your stories I always feel like I'm actually there, you know? Like...um um um...I have a quote (for every occasion!) that says something like "A good story is a story that makes you want to read it so that you can find out the end. A great story is a story that you want to read because you never want it too end". It's something LIKE that, I can't really remember it properly...but anyway, that's what reading your stories is like. A great story. Never want it to end.

And OMG I LOVE YOUR RANDOM BITS OF HUMOUR! Things will be all serious and I'll be sitting on the edge of my seat and stuff and then you throw in something like the duck being Dinner (I've never eaten duck before...) and then I fall off the chair...because I'm laughing...Or just a klutz...a bit of both, really. And it's really cute that...um...shit whats-her-name...Sophie? Sophia! Has a crush on Dan! In a...kid kind of way...you know, just the right shade of annoying, but still kinda cute anyway? You do relationships good in your stories. I can't even explain it in a review...meh, w/e.

I've written a whole review about a chapter (even if the review was shit, at least this time it was actually about the chapter!!) and I only got distracted a few times. Yay?

"Miles and miles of green. Hills, valleys, dips and curves. Grass, grass, grass, for fucking miles. Cows. Goddamn cows.

“Fuck you too.” I snap, and yank the blinds shut."

I pray that Dylan was talking about the grass and not the cows. Doesn't he know that's how swine flu started only with pigs!?!? Although I shudder a little at the 'too' tacked onto the end there...does he often go around fucking grass and/or cows? ...kidding. I. Am. So. Funny! (Not really...but points for trying, right?)

I'm reviewing! Just like I said I would! Even though I didn't actually think I would...I surprised myself. So...surprise! And now I've surprised you too. Two birds, one review. Cause the world can be amazing like that ;).

Anywho; story. Dylan is so awesometastic. You have some truely awesome characters. Writing is amazing, as always. I'd kill for your muse. Brain. Mind. Whatever it is that makes you write. KILL FOR IT! Ugh being shoved off somewhere for convenienvce's sake is a bitch. I'd, personally, rather live on the street. And living on the street is a bitch. So maybe I wouldn't...but I'd definatly run away and stay with a friend instead of going to random places, so totally feeling Dylan's pain right now. He's braver than I.

Anywho; love it as I love all your stories. And I actually love them enough to review *starry eyes* keep up the awesome...ness.

i love your story/writing in general. i remember reading post it notes back when it started, thinking the intro was a little lame (the black coffe and what was it, 2 sugars? and that line kept repeating), until i read further and got hooked in. I found your stuff again in my bookmarks and i still enjoy reading your work!! it's very addicting. so realistic and i really get a sense that i'm reading something from this character's unique POV. he has so many interesting thoughts and ways with dealing with the world, it's as if he were a real person (maybe he is, maybe you're drawing him from your own personal experiences, whatever - Dylan is an awesome character). great work!

Oh yeah I kind of figured they weren't the same person when I read the bottom where it was Tuesday Hayden Carr, and then read your profile over what I really meant to ask is who's this Jason that you mentioned as your first bestfriend or something? If that's not too personal. Oh about your middle name the british thing clears it up though. Oh and you and I have similar tastes in music that our friends would kill us for having the whole let's listen to emo-related music when no one's around to notice on last fm or whatever, but shit there's worst things that my friends could kill me over, um yeah code of silence on how I've managed to be fucked up, actually it mostly started towards the end of highschool ironically enough considering how much people bitch about high school but anyway back to this story...Oh I love Dylan so far and your first chapters descriptions where a little reminiscent of Catcher in the Rye with all the side descriptions, but I have a love hate thing with Catcher in the Rye stronger on the love side but it's an interesting book. Also the whole water thing for the longest time I hated the taste like seriously hated the taste of water unless I was really worn out from playing sports or something then it tasted different, but these days I'm trying to give up soda actually, I unintentionally gave up coca cola off and on through my teens, coke tastes so freakin' acidic after not having it for so long...oh random fact it would take 12 regular bottles of water to equal out 1 coca cola acidity, and what the hell is up with the whole nature animals coke ad it's like wtf? wouldn't that be like detrimental to the environment or something...
and wow this is getting long and it's not nearly all about me commenting on how much I love your story! (My apologies Ryan.)
Also Daniel's just like oh and then walks away that's so a realistic situation but I love your writing for it's realism or realisticism(uh?) it's ironic that I love reading but hate most English classes and I'm taking my first college one now, in the summer, someone kill me now!
-Lauren

I was thoroughly amused by this. Thoroughly.
Now, you have to listen to this song: I'm In Miami Trick by LMFAO. This comes on our radio all the time; it was playing while I read and I think it was a good experience.

Really, you will LMFAO.

It always amazes me just how much I like your writing. You're a fantastic storyteller. I love what you do with characters and how you develop them, and how you use cliches without actually falling into the Cliche Trap. For some reason I feel honoured to have seen your writing develop over the years. :)

That said, I shall now revert back to obscurity. . . .

|Meduza|