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Neon Beige

Mar. 3rd, 2014 07:09 am

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Dec. 8th, 2010 04:43 pm </i>A Space Oddessy

this is a test.

Current Mood: psychic

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Jan. 25th, 2005 08:54 am “The Forgotten Book of The Beginning of The Beginning and The Beginning of The End”

“The Forgotten Book of The Beginning of The Beginning and The Beginning of The End”

This is the story which is true, and without lie. This is the Truth and let all who believe read it, and let all who do not belief it see the face of the beings which called forth Yahweh, and let them believe. And let those who still do not believe rot in hell for eternity. But let that eternity be a partial eternity, until they believe, and it will be good.

And those that still do not believe rot in hell as the worthless scum that live on the face of the earth for eternity, and let it be a complete eternity, which is rare, and let it be good.

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Mar. 26th, 2004 02:29 pm Busy, Busy, Busy

I'm sorry i haven't done a lot of updating lately, i've been so busy that i haven't even had much time to post on zenhex.

i have so many more pages of stories written, and they need to be typed up. i am losing this war terribly, and the more i write, the more i fall behind. the infintesmal time i spend on the internet does not accomidate for all the things i need to get done: typing up new stories, editing and updating old ones, chatting with my friends and consultants, posting on my various blogs, keeping my webpage constant, deleting spam, logging into gaming accounts, and i'm sure there are a few things i didn't mention on that list.

i don't know if i'll ever catch up. i need some help, and desperately, but i always insist on typing up stories and poetry myself because that's how i do a second draft, and some things can be offensive and/or private. i have not yet found someone who can type up everything that i write, or anything for that matter, without being judgemental about the content.

if anyone out there in cyberspace think they can do this for me, please reply, and i'll do my best to catch up with you, even if it means sending my notebooks across the States by snail mail to have them typed and snailed back to me.

Current Mood: busybusy

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Mar. 18th, 2004 02:37 pm 2004 Literary Festival

I'm so happy.

I just got back from this year's surban prarie literary festival. this year I successfully placed! 3rd in poetry.

"Just Play-Relax" was the poem that placed.

I'll post it later.

EDIT: Here it is:

"Just Play"

the shuffling of the cards
draws the soreness from my hands
       Shuffle them well.
       Then deal them out.
deal them out, relaxing wrists and
tensing fingers, arms preparing
       After dealing, pause.
       Reflect upon the cards.
reflection can reveal much, if
the cards are one with me
       Take your time.
take care when playing the cards,
as they reflect moods well
       No two games are the same.
       Enjoy this one.
one game at a time, focus
your mind on the present, relax
       Play them carefully.
       Do not hesitate.
not hesitating, follow instincts,
and your heart, believe
       Do not risk the game.
       It may be your last.
last games: try to end with a
winner, rising dampened spirits
       Be yourself.
       The cards do not judge you.
judge the value of plays by
their results, their gifts
       Do not get angry.
       Failure is not punishment.
failure may hurt, but it teaches
more than cheating, or winning
       Do not cheat.
       You will lose.
you will never get better if you
cheat, only grow more angry
       Losing develops endurance.
       Endure suffering proudly.
suffering for losses is a dead end,
forget the loss, remember the faults
       Just play.

Current Mood: accomplishedaccomplished

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Mar. 17th, 2004 08:41 am Manuscript - "Quiver"

Aim!Collapse )

Current Mood: inspired

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Mar. 17th, 2004 07:06 am green?

Happy St. P's Day!

i wore green, completely on accident.
usually, i try not to do that sort of thing.

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Mar. 16th, 2004 11:00 am Manuscript - "The Crew"

Login and get infected!Collapse )

Current Mood: inspired
Current Music: dot.hack Theme Song

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Mar. 4th, 2004 09:00 pm Splitting Headache

       I have a splitting headache.
       No, really. I do. Literally. I just got back from the dojang a few minutes ago, where I attended the last two classes of the day: grappling from 6.30 to 7.30 and adult class from 7.30 to 8.30.
       In grappling, I was paired up with a very fat kid who sat on my head for at least 5 minutes, if not more. Literally. He weighs about ten pounds less than I do, and is almost a foot and a half shorter. Literally.
       I can teel you don't believe me, but that doesn't change the fact that I have a splitting headache. He sat on one ear while the other got smashed into the floor.
       He squeezed my head so hard I literally though my brain was going to spill out onto the floor.

       And it STILL HURTS. if I ever get the chance, I'm going to kill the little bastard, and I'm not the kind of person who usually uses that sort of language, so when I say it, I really mean it.

Current Mood: splitting headache
Current Music: "Young and Hopeless" - GC

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Mar. 4th, 2004 09:22 am Manuscript - "A Thing So Precious"

    freedom, a thing so silent
         as the ticking of a dead watch
    it calls to us, precious
         to those without
              taken for granted
         by those within
    freedom, a thing so precious.

    self, hiding in the depths
         of a soul so silent
    it calls itself as us, precious
         to the solitary
              considered insubstancial
         by those sharing souls
    self, a thing so precious.

    time, fleeing from grasp
         ever so distant
    it hides from us, precious
         to the aged
         by the youth
    time, a thing so precious.

Current Mood: inspired

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Mar. 3rd, 2004 09:14 pm Manuscript - "He lies awake at night..."

       He lies awake at night, waiting for something magical to happen, thogh nothing ever does. He yearns for change in this oft repeated routine, but it never comes. Yet still he watches, patient and calm.
       He writes stories of what he waits for, of beasts that may dwell only in the imagination, from fantasy to plain pure fiction. The reality he searches for never exposes itself.
       Often, he wonders, not if any of such things could exist, but rather if they do. Usually a loyal pessimist, in this one area, he does hope.
       The stories all die out, lacking in plot, substance, or sense, and he asks himself why:

           I see others writing such stories, I hear what they have to say, I do what they claim works; yet there they are, published and popular, and here I am, considering myself neither of those two by mere technicalities. What do they have that I don't? Where did I go wrong?
           Or is the world merely not the place where items of such nature belong?

Current Mood: inspired

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Mar. 1st, 2004 12:40 pm Manuscript - "A Metaphor"

       The sun sets on a lonely island in a lonely sea. Both are calm and the inhabitants of neither notice. Why should they care? Time only matters to those with little of it, and all here have plenty--it takes little toll, flowing like a muddy river laden with swamps.
       Slowly, gracefully, out of the darkness strides an undiscernable figure; then it disappears once more.

       A bird calls in the distance, echoing across the water. Then silence returns as the day dawns. Nothing has changed.

Current Mood: inspired

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Feb. 27th, 2004 09:00 pm "The need to write..."

       I feel within me the need to write, but inspiration is too far behind, so I will write what I know: I have felt like this for the past three days, although usually in that time period I am lucky to feel it once.
       When I go to sleep at night, I still find myself walking down the dark tunnel, approaching the golden gate and the city behind, but it will not let me through. I reach through the bars, but the city pulls away, dimming, and the gate fades to a steel jail; am I trapped within or without?
       The city is a special place to me, a place where emotions are more important than currency, a place where I can feel them.
       But the gate of faded steel hold me back in this world, in this dark tunnel...

       I can still hear the dripping in the distance.
       Soon, the gate fades and I am alone in the tunnel, alone and emotionless, and my heart is empty.
       Sinking to my knees, I bow my head, but the tears do not come: my heart is empty, and the heavy hollowness degrades my spirit.

       I have lost her, and the city, and there are no more tickets left. I can still hear dripping in the distance.

Current Mood: inspired

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Feb. 26th, 2004 12:00 am Manuscript - "Untitled"

       The town, with "help," soon forgot about the incident; and it never spread to anywhere else. The world went back to normal--or so it seemed.
       My secret could not be kept from everyone; with some thought, I gathered my friends together and told them of my new abilities. Their reactions were not far from what I expected. The three of them were a tad suprised, greatly happy for me, and slightly dissappointed that I had not told them sooner. But when I offered to share immortality with them, I received exactly the answer I was hoping for: yeses all around.
       Soon after that gathering, I converted and blood bonded them all; and a new terror was set loose upon the world. Although I attempted to convince them all to hang around in their old roles for a while, only Greg and Paul did so, while Mel left as soon as she awoke. However, eventually, they all left, and I remained with only the mental connection to attach us.

       I finished high school and went on to college, gatherin an Associates in Web site design and managemnet. I got a job.
       For all but the bloodlust that haunted me and my agelessness, I played the part of a normal human, and no one knew any different. Slowly, any communication with the other until only the mind-binding assured me that they were still out there somewhere, "alive" and well.

Current Mood: inspired

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Feb. 25th, 2004 07:13 am Fishey Wars!

Current Mood: amusedamused

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Feb. 20th, 2004 02:31 pm Manuscript - "The Warehouse"

       I don’t know how I got there, when or why; lying in bed that last night, and waking up walking down an alley. Plenty of time, lost not just in the shadows of a moment, has escaped from me; I look back, see nothing, turn forward and time is splotchy with holes.
       I was looking for something, walking down that alley, but lost it when conciousness was found:

Current Mood: inspired

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Feb. 10th, 2004 07:07 am Re-Certification #3

It actually went quite well.
And quite fast: only two hours.

But I did get high on adrenaline quickly and it was flowing more pwoerfully than it usually does. When we were doing Pyong Ahn E Dan, I was looking into the mirror, and I saw someone who was doing very well, and looked exceptional; however, I didn't recognize the face because I hadn't seen it around the do-jang before. A few minutes later, I realized it was myself.

I also didn't get beaten up for knife defense, for once, though it probably helped that Miss Brennen was the attacker.

For the partner stuff, I got paired with Tom Kucera again.

In attendance, we had FOUR Sabom Nims: Mr. Neil, Mr. Fitzgerald, Mr. Wituk, and one other that I was (and still am) unfamiliar with.

Current Mood: highhigh

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