wow this made me want to cry...

This was sad, but beautifully written. The thought process, the metaphor, all connected wonderfully in a way that made sense.
Poor boy.

Poor Patrick! Unrequited love is the pits. And to sleep with him, to be at HIS beck and call? It almost seems as though he enjoys the pain. Do you ever have those moments where you want to just reach into the story and strangle the characters? From this distance, I find myself mentally screaming at him to shut up and stop putting himself through that kind of situation. That's better said than done, isn't it? Still, this was very well written!

Happy Writing!

This made me feel nice inside. The imagery, metaphors, and awareness simply blew me elsewhere.

Aww. A little sad, but beautiful, too.

My freak. I think I love you. Sad, bitter, and thought provoking.

I'm usually not one for oneshot, but this is amazing. i love the mataphors ]

This is gorgeous but so sad...

when i first read turpentine, i felt the strangest connection with it. it was only ages later that i realized that if i had to write a short story, or a one shot, it would be a lot like this. not the language, but the content.

there's something intriguing in the relationship between an artist and their model. being someone who paints, i understand the intimacy one might feel for the model- but it only goes so far as drinking in the details of their bodies- its hard to acknowledge them as a person.

i loved the part where you spoke of the artists inability to paint his girlfriend- how he cant capture her- its probably why shes so fascinating to him. i also loved how patrick doesnt exist as a person, not for the artist, and barely even to himself. he says nothing about himself- not his past, not his work, nothing. it feels almost as though he allowed the artist to erase everything about him, and now he just waits for him to dismiss his body too.

what i loved about patrick was that throughout his thought process, he doesnt acknowledge his own sadness, something i do a lot. its interesting, because in circumstances like these, at some point, you just become numb to everything. you cant bear to free yourself from it, so you deal with the pain. and it sits inside, almost like a cancer, eating you out. the the worst kind of pain, and yet, noone will notice. i guess thats whats tragic about it.

your language borders on flawless- i know constructive criticism helps more than praise, but i can find no fault with your manner of expression.

Sad and delicate. I feel so sorry for him.

heartbreaking.

why is it that things by that name are always so beautiful?

Wow, beautiful. And quite sad, but I get it.

Every story of yours that I read, I think to myself "Oh, this is definitely my favourite." And then I read the next one. And make a liar out of myself. I can't say that this is my favorite, but it's amazing and I love everything about it. Especially the title.

LUVS

I really liked that; very bittersweet. Ah, your writing always makes me smile

awh. That was painful. Imagery is gorgeous, though, and I really felt for the poor guy; what really struck me was the use of words, though. Gorgeous. beautiful. and I really liked the practice/masterpiece bit.

~Katie