Absolutely,absolutely gorgeous. Your style is astounding—you have a way of stringing simple words into something dangerously beautiful and breathtaking...
I couldnt put into words how amazing I found this story—by far the best one I've ever read of FP, and NO, I AM NOT FLATTERING YOU IN ANY, ANY WAY. Your talent is there, polished to an almost-maximum, and your writing style is... Breathtaking.
Yes, the only way to describe this story is beautiful.

wow, that was depressing. is that all it's meant to be?

Interesting. Would love to see have see what happened with Ryan and Shiloh a bit more, but otherwise, very good.

I really enjoyed this story. I thought the evocations of sense memory were powerful. Your careful portraits of the characters were fulfilling – Tim, the mother, Shiloh, Ryan. I thought the poetic language worked well, but sometimes it gets to be a bit much (I seem to recall something about ‘bloodthirsty mermaids’). The only thing I can’t puzzle out is the why. Obviously the realization of one man’s formative wounds and his intensely sensual memories are self-justifying. But there is no catharsis, no change in Julien’s character that seems to warrant the story. In fact, it ends with a change that we know is no change at all. I think all of these things are set up for some kind of change that we don’t see. Things can’t really continue the way they are, as when Julien says to himself more than once that he was meant for more than this. So you’ve set him up for either healing or implosion, but without following through on either one. That said, I don’t think this omission has maimed the story – it still stands up on its own.

Beautiful. Really, really beautiful, in a broken, fucked up sort of way that makes up all of our realities.

I loved this. Your writing style is very poetic and lovely to read. The characters are really interesting too. Great stuff :)

Strangely gorgeous. I especially loved the line about his mother speaking "beautiful French and foul English, occasionally both". You have a lovely writing style, even with such a disturbing story. I found myself adoring Shiloh, even in all of his addiction and apathy. Well done.

This is pretty good. There are a few typo's, but other than that, well written. It has a lot of emotion, and you bring it out well.

-Tears

I loved it. I love your literary voice, the characters, everything.

I just wish there was more.

I liked this, I was listening to Johnny Cash's cover of Hurt, and I was so close to crying.

It's really nice, I like how in a way it's a "happy ending", but somehow it still proves that they don't exist.

I love sad stories. They make me feel kind of not really there. I like the characters, how realistic they felt and how I could relate to them, even though I am by a wide margin more of a Ryan than a Julien (what a lovely name!). You managed to make the metaphors feel nice, though there was one single one that felt a bit contrived to me, I think it was "His face reminds me of paintings painted by people who are dead but leave legacies on bare, white walls." And I think you accidentally mixed up Trotsky and Tolstoy in this sentence: "Trotsky was too ambitious for my particular brand of reality."

Other that that I enjoyed reading. Thank you for a well-spent quarter of an hour!

I love it. Bleak, apathetic and empty. Well written, excellent characterisation.

Hey, you.

Firstly, words can't even begin to describe how sorry I am for not reviewing this when you sent it. Quite franly, I haven't been able to be on fp for months...life got far too crazy, so please don't even think for one milisecond that I didn't adore or appreciate this story, and the work you put into it...because nothing is further from the truth. there is just something so stunning about your writing...it's the little details, the snapshots of life and the incoherency of human thought. Your writing style just buries the reader in the blurry, cotton-wool fuzziness that envolpes us amongst vivid and fascinating images.

Secondly, You have no idea HOW MUCH I gaped at the fact that your character is named Julien. That name harbors a sentimentality to me for many reasons and I just sat back and grinned at the awesome flukiness of it all. Because surprises still exist.

Thirdly, certain lines and images that just stuck with me:

'That was the beginning of my long relationship with apathy.'

'My mother smoked cigarettes she rolled herself. She patched each one together from other people's cigarettes, which they had probably rolled themselves. She spoke beautiful French and foul English, occasionally both— bonjour, motherfucker, comment-allez vous?'

'Juan is an ex-priest, an ex-mercenary, and an ex-Bolivian. Kate once asked him how he could be an ex-Bolivian and he told her not to ask so many questions.'

'I don't think I know how to love anything— it's like trying to imagine the sensation of dying.'

There are some intriguing parallels throughout, but I particularly love that Julien sees promise and escape in the city when it's usually quite the opposite that people find refuge in. Loved it. Thank you times a billion. You are simply awesome. More than awesome. What's more than awesome? I'll tell you what...YOU! Xx

I've never read a slash fic before. Honestly I didn't know what to expect.

I really liked this though. Julien is an interesting - and unique might I add - character. I'm interested to see where this is going, if Ryan plays a more pivotal part.

:)

poetic, astounding and quite a healthy portion of it, to boot. good characterization, fascinating wording and a lovely way to paint the scenery.

nice job!