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IntroductionSome stories are like fairy tales; a hero and his damsel in distress defeat the evil villain and slay his dragon. Some stories are just the opposite. The once-glorious hero turns on everyone whom he knows and loves, destroying everything in his quest for power. This story is neither here nor there. This story does not lie in-between, or even in the same plane. For you see, this is not just any story, it is many. There is never really just the single story; haven't you ever wondered the fate of the old wizard who taught the young hero, or where he came from? What of his princess, surely she had a life outside of being kidnapped. You see, this is not just any story, nor is it just my story. This is the story of my friends, my family, my enemies. This is our story, and soon enough, it will be your story. This is our story of love, hate, and everything in-between. This is our story of relationships and betrayals, of life and death. This is our story, and soon enough, it will be your story.
DreamAll the world around us, is it really what is seems?
Utopia day after day, the old recurring themes
Rose-tinted glasses over our eyes, since the day we're born
Then one day they're taken, seeing the truth we're torn
Devestated, we start anew, learning everything again
Despite the darkness inside of us, we still try not to sin
Life is Hell for the longest time, every break a gleam
Trying to wake from the nightmare, or at least go back to the dream
Those that manage to return, never happy are they
Nostalgia blinded them, for their foolishness they pay
Those that stay, in a permanent fog is their head
For most this state will stay with them until the day they're dead
Happiness comes in the package we've come to know as love
Though many choices are gone, thanks to the voices above
Life is Hell for the longest time, every break a gleam
Trying to wake from the nightmare, or at least go back to the dream
Santa ClausSanta Claus, Father Christmas, as to some he's called
Each year it's around the world, that he does get hauled
Now I hope you know that he's not real, at least in traditional sense
But if you think that he doesn't exist then you are really quiet dense
He exists as the spirit, the joy of the holiday season
To stop believing in Santa Claus is akin to committing treason
A world without Santa, it would be so very bleak
A hopeless world, that I hope no one should soon seek
WinterWinter gives way to the beauty of snow
There is no place a white blanket can't grow
Such beauty is better unrestrained and free
Covering the shortest bush and the tallest tree
A sheet of snow is an inspiration of all art
It's so very close to many a heart
Brighter than the summer, but oppositely warm
Here in Seattle, a good break from the norm
FearHumans fear the great unknown
Whether inky black depths or hallowed bone
We stay to the light and stray from the dark
Fearing on our innocence, it shall leave a mark
It is natural, so why do we fight it?
It is only an error, in a world so brightly lit
And yet to err is human, to forgive, divine
Or that's how it's supposed to be, in this world of mine
Random quotes from mePersonally, I just find the whole idea of a giant man in the sky creating everything ridiculous.
If you can't imagine a possibility, you can never hope to comprehend the truth.
I'm like a die. Just push me a bit and you'll get an entirely new face.
If people keep relying on the same morals as their ancestors, how can we honestly expect to go anywhere?
The meaning of life? Simple, it's forty-two.
A witty comment? How about this?
I'm not an obstacle in the path. I'm the desire to peer into the woods.
The game? I stopped doing that long ago. Why? It's stupid.
I don't quote others. They just happened to say the same thing I was going to long before I did.
Magaran Story introThis is a story. Well I guess not yet, as I haven't set down a plot or characters or anything like that quite yet, but trust me, before the time that you finish reading this, the first chapter, it will be. Well I guess this isn't quite a chapter yet, but again, it will be by the time it's done. So anyway, the thing I am typing which shall become a story when I finish typing takes place in the make-believe land of Metanide (no, not Meta Knight) and is the home of out hero. Of course, he's not a hero yet, but he shall become a hero over the course of the story, so I'll just refer to him as a hero, okay?
Anyway, the person who shall become the hero of this story but isn't yet but shall still be referred to as such is named Tamres Weveeth (which is definitely not an anagram for my own name, don't even try it), or is otherwise know as Tam. Now Tam is not just anybody, but he is certainly not everybody, and is nowhere near a nobody. He is actually the prince of the province of Cameria, which
A couple quick coupletsOnce we reach eighteen, we can choose our leader
But until twenty-one, we can't down a liter
To sum up beat-boxing and that thing known as rap
I only have one word to say: crap
Yes I do like other guys, why ask do you?
Of those who admit, I am one of few.
English AssignmentOctober 4, 2010 My aunt, Karen Erak, died last week. She was a scientist, and in her will, she left me her final, untested project: a time machine. I doubted it would work, yet curiosity gets the best of us. As such, here I stand, a satchel of supplies, expecting it to send me back to one-thousand years ago, to the Medieval Ages. I have decided to keep a journal of sorts, so that if I should not be able to come back, it may survive to the time when I would exist, and share my story. I guess all there is to do now is to test it. Without further ado, I take my first steps into the realms of lore.
October 5, 1010(?) To both my expectations, and surprise, the time machine did work, and is here with me. I tested it, going back to the moment I left, and then back to the field in which I initially appeared. The land is as I expected it to be, rather barren, and there was a slight mist around me, which has since disappeared. Whether it was because of the time machine, or simply a
Old Spice-Different Nations and CitiesBonjour Ladies , Look at Your man. Now Back at me. Now back at your man. Now back at me again. Sadly he is not me. But if he stopped eating hamburgers and benched pressed moose like me , he could attempt to be MANLY like me. Look down. Back up! Where are we? We're on an iceberg in the arctic. What have I got? It's a baby seal. Look again! The seal is now maple syrup. Anything is possible when your canadian , I'm on a bear.
'ello Ladies Look at Your man. Now Back at me. Now back at your man. Now back at me again. Sadly he is not me. But if he started using magic, stop being a frog face and drank tea like me he could attempt to be MANLY like me. Look down. Back up! Where are we? We're on candy mountain. What have I got? It's a baby fairy . Look again! The fairy is now pixie dust. Anything is possible when your british , I'm on a Unicorn.
Konichiwa radies rook at Your man. Now Back at me. Now back at your man. Now back at me again. Sadly he is not me. But if he stopped singing gangnam sty
Blood MoonWe stood in the middle of the road in flip flops and winter jackets. Our silhouettes were outlined by the motion sensor lights on the porch, our heads tilted back searching the sky.
"Have we ever even looked for the moon out here before?"
She shrugs and sighs. "No, but we also have never been out at half past twelve."
"Yes we have. We just never looked at the sky." Maybe because we didn't care if it was their, as long as we had the porch light, we didn't need the moon. But i didn't say that.
I saw lights down the road but they weren't moving closer.
"Should we go up to the turn-around?"
The car sounded exceptionally loud leaving the driveway at this time. We pulled up on the mat of pine needles on the side of the road and stepped out of the car. We went to both sides of the road and strained our necks but we saw nothing.
"Should we go to the bottom of the hill?" It's a mountain. I know why she calls it the hill though. It's such a gradual slope you'd never guess you were a thousa
Straws I used to play with straws when I was a kid.
Despite our family's obvious comfortable financial status, my siblings and I, some reason,lacked in toys. While others just replayed whatever toys they may have over and over again, I, for some really odd reason, became fixated with straws.
It's a hobby I shared with no one, since it was odd for children my age to become fixated with straws, when they have their Hot Wheels and Jenga and UNOs, or if they're really lucky, a computer to play with.
Straws, were in a way, my own toys to play with, something to indulge in my fleeting childhood interest in architecture and structures.
The real reason I chose straws, however, is its cheapness and accessibility. You can get straws almost anywhere. The moment I finished my Slurpee, I'd wash the straw and keep it in a box. If I finished drinking a box of milk, the straw will be washed and stored in the same b
My Trip to the MallIt had been a couple of weeks since I went into Victorias Secret to purchase a pair of berry colored string bikini panties. I thought they were adorable and I loved wearing them to sleep!
After a while I thought about going out in public and purposely having them show while I bent over in front of attractive women. It would be a nice thrill that would excite me and make women laugh. I knew it was inappropriate but I figured making women forget about their problems as they laughed at my embarrassing predicament wouldn't be too bad.
The day came when I decided to take the bus to the mall, I wore a short collared shirt with designs that I always thought was nice for going out, but this particular one was a smaller size. It would be easier for it to rise above the waist of my pants when I bent over to expose my bikini panties! I got off the bus and when I stopped at the streetlight in front of the mall I realized I had my first opportunity. I heard a group of girls laughing and talking beh
Never stay long in the sun Sweetnightstar *Vent*Sweetnightstar is a bit upset cause no one cared that she was in stasis under the sun for several hours. Lucky Silverfinder found her while he was out on his patrol and brought her back to base. Silverfinder quickly took her to Med bay where Ratchet works at because her body was steaming hot. Ratchet quickly helped her to get back to normal, but in a slow and watchful pace, just to make sure she is ok and healthy again.
Tupperware Party You’ve been invited to a Tupperware party
A Tupperware party?
My mom use to get invited to Tupperware parties.
I would always sit there bored, thinking about how stupid they were.
I didn’t understand why dishes could be so fascinating.
I didn’t understand why ladies would throw Tupperware parties;
Why to be a lady one had to sit and look at dishes.
I’m twenty-two now,
And I was just invited to a Tupperware party.
A Tupperware party?
Am I really old enough to be invited to a Tupperware party?
Am I really at that point where I can no longer sit on the side line;
Sit on the side line thinking about how stupid talking about dishes is?
I don’t know what’s worse.
That I was just invited to a Tupperware party,
Or that I actually kind of want to go.
I AmI Am
Don’t tell me what to be;
You cannot decide for me.
Don’t act like you know what’s best;
It’s all a lie; you’re a lie.
Don’t tell me to be a lady
When I am not.
Call me whatever you want,
Because you have no idea what I really am.
Whatever the hell God made me.
He made me into his image, correct?
He made me into this very emotional,
Conflicted human being
Who shouldn’t have survived this long.
Trust me, I’m as puzzled as you.
I am a human.
That means I have emotions.
I may not show them,
But I have some.
I am a weirdo.
Words said by none other than myself.
I have my fears, some stupid, some reasonable.
At least I’m not boasting about having no fears like some of you.
I have lost the meaning of hope
It no longer exists where I am
But that is fine.
I lock up my feelings,
So you’ll never know what I really mean.
I am a fearful, weak, shallow corpse of a human being. I follow the book and I only
Prowl and Jazz's little once grown up brat. *Vent*For the past several days Ninjadash just starting to experience what humans called it a "Teenage Temper Tantrum problem". His sire Prowl and his carrier Jazz doesn't know that Ninjadash is having this problem. Ninjadash only aruges, fights and ignore his sire. When he is in the training room alone or in his room alone, he will be throwing things, punching and kicking everything in his path. Plus he will eb saying words like "Frag it!" or "Slag it!", but he sometimes be calling other bots "FRAG YOU!" or "SLAG YOU!"
How To Stop Obsessive Thinking Without...It’s 11:43 on a Tuesday night and my Google search history lists articles like, “15 Ways To Stop Obsessing,” “It Must Be Cancer: How I Came To Terms With Hypochondria,” and the particularly helpful, “Internet Makes Hypochondria Worse.” In other words, it’s just another Tuesday night.
My heart is beating ferociously in my chest and I’m trying to convince myself that I’m not dying.
Four months ago, just after New Year’s, I noticed something rather alarming – I had forgotten how to breathe. For those of you who go day in, day out, never spending a passing thought on this autonomic function, it seems a ridiculous notion. How do you forget how to breathe? Are you some fucking moron? Just take a chill pill, shut your eyes and inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, look you’re good as new.
I thought it was ridiculous, too. A million other responses, logical responses, circulated in my mind. Bronchitis. Asthma.
MilkOne of my earliest memories is of when I first poured for myself a glass of milk. I don't remember exactly how old I was, but until that point, one of my parents had always done it for me. However, they had stepped out for a moment, and I was in the mood for a drink. I lifted the jug up onto the counter and fetched a glass, and at that point inspiration struck.
What would happen if I kept pouring? I had trusted my all-knowing parents without question my entire life, at least up until that fateful day, when I had an idea that was truly my own. I was going to infinity.
I raised the jug and poured, and within moments I was testing my grand idea. Half-full, I could barely contain my excitement. Nearing the rim, I had nearly chickened out; this was where my parents always stopped, should I do like them? No, I would see my idea through to the bitter end. The liquid flowed over the top of its small container, only this and nothing more. I cleaned the spill, and, with me as its only witness, t
mechanici want to kiss every aching wound you have,
bandage your heart every time it bleeds,
and patch up your mind over and over
because not a single tear deserves to fall
from your brandy-drenched eyes
but this dripping heart of mine can only feel
and the healing honey words it flames get caught
in the back of my throat and on the roof of my mouth
so i only have these passionate guttural cries
to tell you that i care all too much
and in order to fix you up again,
i would need to tear myself to tatters
and trade all of my working parts
for your leftover, fading pieces
but i just haven’t figured out how.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More