Unlike some writers and poets I can never grab on to any recurring theme, so you will find my works to be all over the place. Some ideas of what is to come:
Disturbance.
I am the mountain,the solid rock, the earth; I am impenetrable, a fortress; a god, I am blank, unemotional,my will implacable. no sight nor touch nor memory;I am alone.
Then it came; no, she came, She was stirring,beauty, emotion, happinessfreedomexcitement and disturbing all at once! She was an idea, a message that rushed right through me, The idea that,life was possible that I, beast of solitude could could have something I dared not think about, that I could fulfill my life with one cliched word:love.
Am now peaceful as i lay dying, the lover long dead; knowing I soon follow, staring at the long part between birth and death I impart to you,dear human:contentment is the greatest thing to achieve. That was one of my first attempts at writing that sort of work. The different styles are on purpose, if your wondering.
Hope for the future For the moment people like us simply have to continue living. Speaking about such despair shall bring nothing. But the knowledge that, if you could change one persons life for the better by spreading common sense,logic and wisdom could change your perception of this flawed,imperfect world for a long time.
I believe that all people have potential, and that it's the job of clever people to influence and shape it. I was once depressed at the pointlessness of man, but then I realizedersevere in life. Endure, who knows? it might be fun.
Contradiction Acrostic
I llogical
L oneley O ld V ile E ntrapment
Y uck O utrage U needed
AG3
A mbitious R iveting M edieval O n-going R oaring
G erbil A rousing M astery E lysian S uperabundance
3 ...ee
The Efan adventures in limerick style (more to come)
An Efan fell out a plane, his life going down the drain, he took a look down, saw the whole town, and found himself in pain.
An efan once went splat, scaring a poor rat, the rat flew high, afraid it might die, and flew into the arms of a cat.
Please post what you think and your ideas for improvements.
"Never underestimate a writers need for your opinion"
Do you ever get the feeling you don't know something important? Like there is some huge part of life you're missing out on, but no one wll tell you what it is? You know that they know but they seem not to understand what you are talking about. It's as if they are being evasive yet never-. I spend so much time trying to figure out what it is I am missing. Is this me trying to conform? Does everyone else share my thoughts? You see all these teenagers and young people roaming the streets looking identical. But they say they are trying to be unique. Is this just the way humans are going? How many new inventions do you see today? None. It is all built up technology copying the last model. But is any of it an improvement? You can't be indpendent anymore. Not completely. Try living as a hermit in a nearby forest. It wont last two weeks before people knock on your bloody mud hut telling you to leave private property or council owned lands.
People want to find meaning in life because they are afraid. Some chose religion. Others start it. Some seem desperate to see what's after. Perhaps they need a kick in the head. Life is what you make of it, there is no right way or wrong way to live it. Some people want to alter the past and future. Some people are terrified of the very thought of people already doing that. How would we know if the future was altered? We'd already become the alternate universe before nothing happend and something happened. People think too much about the pointless. I know I do. But when I think about it, everything's important. I mean, sure, stepping on an insect and changing history is all bull****. You know what? I'm making history. you're making history. You are reading this now (or not reading this now) and that is your history, you'll look back ten seconds from now and realize that every passing second is your history. You're livin' it baby!
Making things up and typing them out on to this gaming website is an interesting ideatractor. Sorry, i'm typing this as soon as I think of this. Is this a good brain excercise? I think It is. I'll probably look back in an hour or two wondering WTF was going through my head but that doesn't matter. For once in my life I am not dreaming the future past or even present. I am consciously typing out my present. The present thjat wil become the past one second from now. Holy pit! How much have I written now?! Dam people will only be reading half of this. How irrelevant. How joyous.
I thgink this is the most I have ever typed non stop on the forums. I want to keep going. I want to-. See? dramatic finish. Crap. Now I have to finish again! Well. Now you know my head thoughts for the past ten minutes.
I'm tired. So tired. Alone I walk the winding path, does it lead anywhere? Ghosts of future memories keeping me company. On and on, ceaslessly trailing the sunset, no purpose. Except; the road to bliss, contentment, freedom. I'm tired, so tired. But content.
Alert. So alert. A heightened sense of life. Heart thumping, arms pumping. I have a purpose, vengeance. This is for my family. Anger coursing through my veins. Ghosts of past torments, jeering. Only encourages me. Alert. So alert. and hating every moment.
The end is in sight, I will have my glory. I don't care where I am. The one who did this will pay. Living the moment without a care in the world. Is that him? A fellow traveller, it doesn't matter, all that matters is the ongoing journey O' what a journey! Anger clouds my vision, he is going to pay. Why does everyone run these days? My knife is unsheathed I give my savage cry. Brutality. Oh i've waited for this. Pain! who was he?! His delirious eyes, sickening grin. Blade is in me, must escape. travel.. Oh ****, oh **** what have I done! It wasn't him, I killed this innocent man. I am a monster.. My life issn't ebbing away, it is leaving rappidly, with eah beat of my heart. A face looks over mine, upset? I'm glad someone is.... I'm a murderer, and I didn't even kill the one who killed my family. Killing. It wasn't worth it. I don't deserve life. . . Two dead bodies, lying on the road, one filled with pity and self loathing, the other, calm. Needless, irrelevant, yet the most important thing in the world.
'I am whatever I need to be' says the actor. 'I am whatever you want me to be' says the spy. Or is it the same?
I'm Ethan. No doubt. Or is there? A name is but a title, a refferral. Something that people can remember you by. A name is a label. You may be suprised by the way most people fit there name so well. The reason for this; I think, is because oneself becomes the name. Their personality is followed, shaped, by our name in subtle ways. But what's in a name? Does a name trap us? Keep us? could not having a name of any kind make us nothing? Or our own self? It seems that everything as a label these days. As if not having one would truly make a difference. Why do we need names for things? I do, you do, humanity does.
We were cautious, the enemy could be anywhere. **** covenant. They had learnt a lot of our tactics over the years, which is why we were hand picked for this assignment. Only spartans could endure this hell.
We were surrounded by dense forest and marshland, the mud softly sucking at our boots as we moved. We were in a hot zone. The mission was to find out why the covenant were so interested in this wasteland.
It was agonizing, travelling kilometers at this pace- A noise! I dived behind a bush, raised my battle rifle and darted glances around.
*the old man sighs and chuckles to himself*
But it was nothing I thought. We continue towards our objective. "Get down!" my leader whispered. There was an outpost just up ahead so we switched on our cloaking devices and made wide distance between it and us.
When we got to the top of a hill our sniper, Vostov took out his scope and scanning around: the place was crawling. They were everywhere.
"I'm detecting high levels of radiation around here sir". Vostov whispered to us. To be continued (that's not where the paragraph ends, I just can't think of more to put) This is HALO fan fiction only and will not be distributed indipendently, or at all to the public.
Imagine a future where Armor Games is a multiplayer live flash game city of itself. You have an avatar that walks around and talks to other Avatars. These other Avatars are the registered users like ourselves. In this city is a tavern, a courtyard, a debates room etc. Everyone has a room they go to by pressing a small button in the corner that transports the screen to what looks like a bedroom with clickable objects where they can check comments, keep copies of game walkthroughs, keep works of computer art and writing in storage to submit it for contests sort of thing. In the city is a games room known as the library with different sections to access. These sections are the different game genres.
This idea is entirely a wishful fail but whatever.
I need to get a grip. I. Am a loser. I can't control my sadness. A sadness that bears down on me like a ton of bricks. Happines just seems so far away, if happiness were tangible, all i'd see is a foreign substance.
The world is grey.
Teenagers are laughed at all the time for being depressed. Some people say things like "you kids need to grow up and see the real problems of the world". And yet adults who are meant to be wise. But what I see is blindness. Blindness that is so visible to me.
I wish I could say I missed being eight years old again. But that would imply I had known happiness then. I was bullied at chool, beaten. All because I was quiet and had nervous habits. My father abused me. He called me weak. I was scared and frightened.
The world is cruel.
.
But not always.
I met this boy. He was my age. He was so nice to me. We talked for a while. He left me with a smile. A smile. I felt; warm, like someone had turned on the sun for the first time! Emotions rushed through me. This was what I didn't even know what I needed.
We met again. I realised just how much I liked him. He left but that wasn't all. He left with a silent but mutual promise that we would meet again! That I would not be abandoned to misery.
I discovered many things in my life. But the greatest of all was joy. _____________________________________________________________- So there you have it. Funny what inspires you at 3AM.
I need to get a grip. I. Am a loser. I can't control my sadness. A sadness that bears down on me like a ton of bricks. Happines just seems so far away, I can't even cry because it just doesn't happen.
The world is grey.
Teenagers are laughed at all the time for being depressed. Some people say things like "you kids need to grow up and see the real problems of the world". And yet adults who are seen as wise say this. But what I see is blindness. Ignorance that is so easy to see.
I wish I could say I missed being eight years old again. But that would imply I had known happiness then. I was bullied at chool, beaten. All because I was quiet and had nervous habits. My father abused me. He called me weak. I was scared and frightened.
I feel so sad. And yet I am guilty for feeling sad because there are people worse off. People who are starving and dying. I feel pathetic. As if I were the one starving. Perhaps I am.
Do I deserve this? Is it even possible to stop this?
The world is cruel.
.
But not always.
I met this boy. He was my age. He was so nice to me. We talked for a while. He left me with a smile. A smile. I felt; warm, like someone had turned on the sun for the first time! Emotions rushed through me. This was what I didn't even know I had needed for all these years.
We met again. I realised just how much I liked him. He left, but that wasn't all. He left with a silent but mutual promise that we would meet again! That I would not be abandoned to misery.
I discovered many things in my life. But the greatest of all was joy.
_________________________________________________ Mark two. I generally like to do three drafts.
I think most of the above crap should be deleted. But it remains for historical purposes. ____________________________________________________________________
And We Will Rise The world's bitter sweetness coats my tongue with texture of ash, mixed with the sweet scent of roses and irony, it dances 'cross my palate like the bullets with the sand.
Men are screaming in my ear, begging for orders, I am deaf to the world, -------------------------- I'll be back. This is my notepad for the poetry contest by the way.
