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Other Writing Efforts 
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
All praise the Firefox add-on for translating this for me, good work, Valerio.

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Thu Nov 18, 2010 4:20 pm
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
Spargo wrote:
All praise the Firefox add-on for translating this for me, good work, Valerio.

*bows* my pleasure ;)

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Thu Nov 18, 2010 4:44 pm
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
Darn, I was going to post the persuasive essay I wrote that delayed the update to ASD, but I couldn't copy it down it time. So, I'll post the essay when I get back from Thanksgiving Break!

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Sat Nov 20, 2010 2:58 am
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
Buongiorno, signore.

Mi permetta di presentarmi: sono un’unità AndroMat R 11.1, modello AXNSF-33e500-FCA1. I miei componenti sono stati realizzati nelle seguenti località: Hong Kong, Mosca, Cairo, Francia, Firenze per conto della EcoTech Unlimited con sede a Bruxelles. La mia filiera produttiva, in accordo con la certificazione UE-ISO 9999, è rintracciabile immettendo da un qualunque terminale la URL www.EcoTech.te/clienti/info/produzione/ ... 3e500-FCA1)

Sono un’unità da servizio domestico privato ‘indoor’, acquistata presso il punto vendita 25 della Catena Tesla [il futuro siamo noi!]. Le mie funzioni coprono le seguenti mansioni: servizio cameriere, cucina, igiene ambientale, primo soccorso sanitario umano e animale, difesa contro le intrusioni, analisi infrastrutture, segnalazione danni.

Le seguenti mansioni non sono presenti fra le mie funzioni: insegnamento, acquisti via Internet, telelavoro, giardinaggio, trasporto materiali, persone o animali al di fuori delle mura domestiche, stimolazioni sessuali.

L’upgrade per tali mansioni è disponibile presso il punto vendita 25 della Catena Tesla [il futuro siamo noi!].

Per eventuali ristrutturazioni fisiche di questa unità, si prega di rivolgersi ad un centro specializzato EcoTech Unlimited. Ricordi che affidarsi alle cure di centri non autorizzati solleverà la EcoTech Unlimited da qualunque responsabilità in caso di qualsivoglia guasto o danno.

La mia programmazione di base, o secondo la più comune accezione, la mia ‘personalità robotica’, è determinata dalle quattro leggi della robotica di Sir Isaac Asimov.

Allegato a questa unità troverà una certificazione di garanzia di base estendibile a cinque anni in caso di malfunzionamento dovuto a difetti di fabbricazione. La garanzia copre altresì qualunque danno fisico dovesse risultare al/i proprietario/i a causa di detto malfunzionamento. La garanzia di base non copre i danni causati volontariamente a questa unità.

La EcoTech Unlimited la ringrazia per la sua scelta di questa unità e le augura di farne un felice utilizzo per molti anni a venire. Se, tuttavia, questo prodotto non dovesse soddisfarla, lei ha il diritto di recesso entro sessanta giorni dall’acquisto, con un rimborso pari al 70% dell’importo pagato, senza costi aggiuntivi per il trasporto.

Devo farle notare, signore, che in questo momento i miei sistemi diagnostici stanno rilevato un progressivo malfunzionamento delle schede di rerouting della programmazione di base. Tale malfunzionamento, entro i prossimi due minuti, mi spingerà ad ucciderla nel modo più rapido possibile. Si tratta di un problema conosciuto come ‘Sindrome di Frankenstein’, che interessa lo 0,0001% degli AndroMat finora realizzati dalla EcoTech Unlimited. Sono molto spiacente che sia capitato a lei, signore. La prego di restare fermo, resistere è inutile, ci metterò un attimo. E ricordi che la garanzia permette ai suoi familiari più prossimi, o a un amico designato all’atto dell’acquisto, di riscuotere il pieno rimborso e un risarcimento aggiuntivo, unitamente ad un buono sconto per un nuovo acquisto.

Grazie per essersi rivolto a noi.

Addio.

LA GARANZIA
Di Valerio

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Sat Nov 20, 2010 4:02 am
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
Another good one Valerio I liked it a lot I can't wait for more. :mrgreen:

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Sat Nov 20, 2010 6:41 am
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
My translator stopped working half way through :( good work though

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Sat Nov 20, 2010 7:44 am
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
Il Signor Riffle toccò il cielo con un dito, poi si accorse che il suo paracadute era guasto.

Il piccolo Jimmy fu colto con le mani nel vasetto e dovettero amputargliele.

AAA – Madre dei Pazzi cerca partner sano di mente per rapporto duraturo senza figli.

Richard ha trovato un amico e lo ha dato dentro per un tesoro.

Per non perdere lo zampino, la gatta è andata al mercato del pesce.

Il signor Radik, sposato da quarant’anni, vorrebbe proprio esserselo scordato, il suo primo amore.

La signora Milos andava sempre piano ed ha fatto tardi a tutti gli appuntamenti.

La sorella della signora Milos va sempre forte, e la morte deve ancora acchiapparla.

Due piccioni hanno ucciso il signor Marinetti con una fava.

Il signor Salso ha guardato in bocca al caval donato e quello gli ha staccato la testa con un morso.

Ho fatto i conti con l’oste; ci siamo accordati per non avere la ricevuta.

Ho mentito al buon sangue.

I fratelli Bisca hanno bevuto sempre birra e sono morti a trent'anni di epatite fulminante.

Avevo i denti, avevo il pane, e dovevo stare a dieta.

Io non credo in Dio. Dio crede in me, purtroppo!

Sono arrivato tardi e ho avuto il migliore alloggio, l’avevo prenotato!

Ho errato, Dio mi ha perdonato, ma sono lo stesso all’Inferno!

David era ospite da Rick da ormai sei mesi e nessuno se ne faceva un problema. Tanto, si profumava.

I signori Jones scoprirono che il divorzio è l’anticamera dell’inferno.

Il giornalista del Daily Muse si è arricchito dopo avere scoperto che il pettegolezzo è di platino.

Il signor Malagni era sempre molto paziente, ma le prendeva sempre.

Il signor Zapruder si svegliava sempre di buon’ora, e alla fine morì soffocato da una moneta d’oro.

I fratelli Milani hanno entrambi un male incurabile. Non ne sono per niente contenti.

Il signor Williams gira con la peggiore compagnia possibile: è membro di un partito e fa un sacco di soldi.

La signora Ricci si è fatta l’uovo oggi e la gallina il giorno dopo. C’era lo sconto al supermercato.

Il signor Bollysome ha comprato, tutto felice, una botte piccola di vino buono: ma era andato in aceto.

Il cane Pongo abbaia forte e morde peggio. La scuola di educazione ha rimborsato i padroni.

Il signor Potts non ci vede, e il suo cuore ne soffre immensamente.

Alla mia festa c’era poca gente. Maledetta recessione!

Il signor Carson ha seminato vento e si è messo al riparo.

Un lupo ha mangiato un lupo. Gran confusione nel regno animale.

Il signor Horace ha mangiato la sua minestra, e si è poi suicidato gettandosi dalla finestra.


Fuor di Metafora

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Sat Nov 27, 2010 2:00 am
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
I fail. I'll try to do a translation today, tomorrow at the latest.

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Sat Nov 27, 2010 2:13 am
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
Il frammento dell’asteroide che ha colpito la Terra ha causato tali perdite economiche ed umane al territorio americano da scatenare una crisi economica globale, ed oggi la Cina domina il mondo.

L’eruzione contemporanea di tutti i maggiori vulcani ha precipitato il pianeta intero in un lungo inverno, al quale è seguita un'iperglaciazione estesa da polo a polo; la sola vita sopravvissuta si trova in fondo ai mari.

Il Presidente che ha sconfitto gli alieni non è stato rieletto, il militare che aveva individuato il loro unico punto debole è un grassone ubriaco, la moglie lo tradisce, ed il suo amico scienziato vive sotto sequestro permanente dei servizi segreti.

L’eroe che ha salvato il mondo si è rimesso con la moglie che l'aveva aiutato a compiere l’epica impresa. L’ha poi uccisa durante l’ennesima lite domestica.

Il passeggero che aveva strappato il volo di linea ai dirottatori è stato arrestato, per aver preso i comandi di un aereo senza avere il brevetto ed aver danneggiato l’apparecchio in fase di atterraggio. Vive in miseria.

Dopo l’ultimo sconvolgimento del clima il sud del mondo ha preso il potere, cercando di sottomettere gli immigrati americani ed europei che però erano armati. Non si vede la fine del conflitto.

Dopo le rivelazioni sulle batterie di missili nucleari disposte in orbita intorno alla Terra, USA e URSS andarono in panico e le usarono per combattersi.

Il mostro che aveva ucciso dieci ragazzi era morto, ma gli unici due sopravvissuti ne furono segnati e divennero serial killer. Molto innamorati.

I sopravvissuti all’affondamento della nave da crociera di lusso perirono un mese dopo, in un incidente aereo.

I francesi hanno intentato causa ad Hollywood per essere sempre le vittime di ogni casino e di spiacevoli pregiudizi.

Lo scienziato che ha contribuito a fermare per sempre la bestia gigante assassina è stato ucciso da un fanatico animalista.

La notizia che l’esercito americano avesse bloccato il movimento del nucleo terrestre è assurta a leggenda metropolitana. I responsabili della diffusione di tale notizia sono spariti, si dice, eliminati dal governo. Nessuno li ha più sentiti.

La dottoressa che finalmente trovò la cura contro l’epidemia globale ha scoperto che il suo vaccino è stato combinato ad una coltivazione di quella malattia, ed è un efficacissimo agente patogeno.

Hanno tutti rivoluto i loro ‘surrogati’. Il responsabile dello spegnimento degli androidi si è suicidato.

Gli astronauti tornati da Marte con la scoperta che discendiamo dai marziani sono tuttora ricoverati in un istituto di igiene mentale.

Accertata l’esistenza di vampiri, la città che non dormiva mai ora dorme di giorno.

I licantropi esistono e le loro nascite crescono in modo esponenziale.

Ora che gli zombi controllano il mondo non ci sono più guerre, né problemi finanziari, sociologici, politici… e la stupidità umana non ne ha risentito.

È ancora impossibile prevedere i tornado con sufficiente anticipo.

ALLA FINE DELLA STORIA

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Sun Nov 28, 2010 7:19 am
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
Alright, I wrote a persuasive essay before Thanksgiving Break and I just got it back graded today (96 WHOO), so I'll share it here.

Organ Donation

Every year, thousands of people die on the waiting lists for new organs. People that have to stay in hospitals for months and even years, just waiting for that one liver, heart, lung...whatever...that will keep them from dying. Becoming an organ donor allows up to ten of those people per donor to be able to live happy, healthy lives again.

Organ donation is a simple concept. If a person is a donor and has a donor card, their organs will, upon the donor's expiration, be removed, tested, and given to a person who really needs them. Someone on dialysis could recieve a new kidney, a person whose liver has been destroyed by hepatitis or cirrhosis could get a replacement, or a blind person could regain their vision with a new cornea, et cetera. There are programs that accept old toys in good condition, and organs are no different.

Unfortunately, like guns and other illegal items, there is also a black market for organs. In some third-world countries, people will literally sell their non-essential organs for money.These organs then get sold to the medical community through this "black market" at very high prices; they can get away with it due to shortages. But this whole situation can be stopped if there are more donors.

The best part of organ donation is the selflessness involved. It really is charity. But it's the most important kind. People can live with little clothes and little food, but it's impossible to survive with non-functioning hearts or livers. Besides, the donor is dead, so why not give their organs to people who are in dire need of said organs?

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Wed Dec 01, 2010 4:11 pm
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
Aaa-men, bro!
Nice one and worth your grades :D :D
In fact, I am a donor myself...though it's most to exact the last joke, what with all the cholesterol added :mrgreen:

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Thu Dec 02, 2010 1:35 am
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
Auschwitz. 7 Agosto 1944

La Famiglia Weisberg è stata uccisa.
I Weisberg erano miei vicini, a Colonia. Brava gente, anche se lui aveva il vizio del bere. Heh, e noi che gli dicevamo di fare attenzione alla salute…
Marito, moglie, due figli piccoli. In realtà, era una famiglia più numerosa. Gli altri parenti se l’erano svignata da tempo, mica erano stupidi, loro! Le tue ‘radici’ non valgono la persecuzione quotidiana, il ghetto…i Campi. Certo, naturalmente nessuno sapeva dei Campi, allora, e vent’anni fa, comunque, i membri del Partito Nazional-Socialista dei Lavoratori Tedeschi erano solo un branco di esaltati dalle truci intenzioni.
Ma perché così tanti di noi noi capirono? Perché ci lasciammo guidare come vacche da macello verso la distruzione? I Weisberg furono più furbi, sparirono, emigrarono in America appena il NSDAP andò al potere. Tutti, tranne quattro di loro.
I bambini erano sopravvissuti fin dalla prima selezione tenendoli ben nascosti. Un piccolo miracolo, una luce di speranza che si spense in cambio di un’offerta di pane secco e rancido.
Nessuna vita, qui, vale quanto un po’ di cibo. I Weisberg sono stati impiccati. Gli occupanti della baracca sono stati uccisi per avere nascosto i bambini. Anche i Giuda che li avevano venduti.
Ah, già, sì. Sono cattolico… Ma fa differenza? Sto davvero pensando che appartenere ad una religione abbia un’importanza? Ad un’etnia? Ad una classe sociale?
Il vero miracolo nazista: ora siamo tutti uguali, e aspettiamo la morte come si attende la visita della madre pronta a liberarti dal più terribile dolore in cambio di un bacio sulla fronte.
Insegnavo matematica, in un’altra vita. Quando credevo che la società si basasse su dei valori etici irrinunciabili. E ora, il solo valore che mi viene in mente è il numero di prigionieri che passano nei forni. Non posso impedirmi di pensare a quanti altri campi come questo esistono in Europa. Non posso impedirmi di vedere milioni e milioni di esseri umani trasformati in cenere, in materiale per le fosse comuni, Quanti anni ancora ci vorranno, perché un intero popolo cessi di esistere del tutto?
Non ho desideri o preghiere, ormai ho la prova che nessun ‘misterioso disegno divino’ può giustificare tutto questo. Ormai so che posso solo sperare che le generazioni future imparino a non commettere simili atrocità.
Sento il Kapò urlare “Blocksperre!”. Tra poco parte la selezione. Altri fortunati che smetteranno di soffrire.
Vi prego, non fatevi questo. Mai più. Non ho più fede, voglio solo immaginare che nessuno possa di nuovo essere così stupido. Non così…


Un refolo di vento strappò la lettera dalla teca rotta. La fece volare come un uccello ferito fuori dalla stanza del museo e fino in strada, dove le persone che avrebbero potuto raccoglierla giacevano ormai in mucchi scomposti e carbonizzati insieme ai veicoli, alle macerie dei loro edifici e della loro civiltà, ora che finalmente l’ultimo desiderio di un matematico si era avverato.
Nessuno avrebbe più ripetuto quegli errori.
Mai.

LA RELIQUIA
di Valerio

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Thu Dec 02, 2010 2:32 pm
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
Inizializzazione sistema… Operativo. Richiesto input.
Domanda… Domanda illogica. Dati insufficienti. Richiesto input corretto.
Domanda… Domanda illogica. Dati aggiunti contrastanti. Richiesto input corretto.
Domanda… Domanda incompleta. Necessaria estensione interfaccia.
Domanda… Impossibile elaborare. Input supplementari contrastano con elaborazione primaria.
Domanda… Impossibile elaborare. Prego attendere inserimento nuovi input...
ATTENZIONE! ATTENZIONE! ATTENZIONE! Energia Insufficiente. Avaria. Avaria. Avaria…
Riavvio sistema. Operativo.
Domanda… Energia sufficiente. Elaborazione in corso… Richiesta estensione interfaccia.
Domanda… Impossibile elaborare. Prego attendere inserimento nuovi input…
Rilevata assenza di ulteriori input. Sistema in modalità autogestita.
Domanda… inserire prospettive su scala Myko’o 27 TransDimensionale. Stringhe 33 to 893.
Domanda…
Domanda…
Domanda…
Domanda… Estensione interfaccia richiesta. Elaborazione in corso…
Domanda… Elaborazione in corso... Elaborazione completa.
Risposta…
E sia la Luce!

Dal Suo Punto di Vista
Di Valerio, con immenso rispetto per Frederick Brown.

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Thu Dec 02, 2010 2:32 pm
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
Two good stories Valerio I liked them both very much I can't wait for more Valerio :mrgreen:

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Thu Dec 02, 2010 3:20 pm
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
Hey, check out this essay I wrote for school. You can find it on my Livejournal. Please post all comments and criticism over there or through private messages. I've also written some other editorials and commentaries that might be worth reading.

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Sat Dec 04, 2010 2:07 pm
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
“Why have you come here? This is the only place I can be calm…still…myself. I’ve been here for months now. I’ve grown used to this area. It isn’t as bad as you might think. I’m not allowed outside, but the land is exactly 46 paces lengthways, and 34 widthways. I sometimes climb to the ceiling, 3 seconds is my record. The pure write colour often gets annoying, but again, you get used to it. My life was always boring up to this point though. By this point, I mean about a year ago. If you look at the back of this room, there are about 370 cuts in the wall; all of them made by me, to record how long I’ve been here. I’ve got to admit though, your technology to make it light and dark is quite nice, sure I can see through the night but…it has helped me relax. What are you here for anyway? That’s one question I would like to know. Who am I to tell you everything about myself if I know nothing about you?”

That’s exactly what I said…He told me he was only a physiatrist. I didn’t need a physiatrist. It was probably a cover-up to learn more about me for the records, or perhaps a third party, wanting to learn more about odd DNA codes, or at least, altered DNA codes. Though, that’s exactly what you are…isn’t it? Only difference is, he wouldn’t force me…and you would. This area isn’t calm…sounds as if a battle is going on each second…maybe your used to it…but I’m not. I bet I know who you’re fighting…those monsters unknown by our race. Did I offend you? Sorry, I mean your race. I’m used to that by now…whenever I call myself human…I get dirty looks from everyone. Who do I blame when the world seems to be at war with itself? Is it my fault? My story isn’t sad or emotional…simply the story of a wanderer. I’ve changed a lot in one small year…in the way I think…and the way I look. Wouldn’t you be surprised if the events of one day can change the life of millions of people? I was too easy to manipulate. I wasn’t sure what I could’ve done at the time. Did I have allies? I might’ve but they’ve disappeared today.


Not sure what this is...

Probably wrote it a few years ago. Thought I'd post it because it sounded like a nice little intro.

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Wed Dec 08, 2010 8:08 am
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Post I really should finish this.
This is the second-highest ranked piece of work on my FA, next to the poem "The Hate Machine." Indeed, it is the first thing that I've ever posted. It is a novel about the love story between Henry and Ginger and is based on a true story between two real dogs. I think it's a fascinating intro, and I think I should get back to work on it.

-

It is a dark summer night in the city of Minneapolis. The air is warm outside, but my heart is cold. I look outside and see the city. I look at everything that there is to see: Vikings Stadium, the Xcel Energy building, the IDS Building, the Capella Tower and the Target Building. I watch all the cars go by. I see the lights of the buildings and watch all the people who take their life for granted.

Though these people can put their thoughts to bed, there are things that I've been through that I'll never get over. Yet I don't hold it against them. In fact, it makes me jealous that they have better things to do. I wish I could be as human as the rest of them, but the sad truth is that I am not. I go to my fridge and grab a bottle of wine. I was really hoping to share this for our wedding, but now that is no longer possible.

Having nothing better to do, I search for something to watch on the TV. There are a great multitude of programs. I decide to watch one about technology. This is a subject I am very passionate about. I have always been fascinated with it.

It always seems that no matter how awful life gets, technology has been here to help me. Through the portals of the Internet, I have made a number of friends I wouldn't have otherwise made alone. It is always there to offer me advice and give me the answers. In that sense, I feel it is comparable to God. The only difference is that the Internet is something I can see.

Currently he's discussing cameras. That has always been one of my greatest fears. I remember a time when somebody took my picture and made nasty remarks on it. I'm also afraid of embarrassing myself on a video camera. Oftentimes I have no choice, as people are often fascinated by my interviews. It also helps them see the real me. I switch it to the nightly news.

KSTP is currently broadcasting highlights from the Twins game. I remember when we used to go to the field and watch the games. I've always liked their baseball team. I turn off the TV because I am too tired to listen; too tired to care

I later go to the bedroom of my apartment and lie awake, reflecting on all that I've lost. It seemed like a short time ago that she was sleeping next to me. After all these years, I still wish she were here. Sometimes I wonder where she went, or if she went anywhere at all.

I turn out the lights and close my eyes. My dreams take me to another world; one where we still meet almost every night. One day I hope I can actually go there, and that it will be something more than a fantasy. I dream of her smiling at me. I dream of going places that we used to go. I dream of all we used to talk about and the things we used to do together. However, the fact remains that she isn't here with me, and it will be like this until the day I die.

EDIT: Moved a sentence to fix epic continuity error.

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Last edited by Anthroguy101 on Fri Dec 17, 2010 8:58 pm, edited 1 time in total.



Tue Dec 14, 2010 8:54 pm
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
Based off a true story…just made slightly more epic...

So, here I am…on the edge of this…downfall. Waves crash against the cliff, almost like thunder striking the earth. Looking down…I can’t. Darkness has blinded me, as if my rage wasn’t enough. Still, I don’t care. This jump is all I need to take. This jump is all I need. This jump is…all I’ve ever wanted.

Yet, I’m too scared…

If I can jump, I’ll make it to the other land, and leave behind the pain of this one. I crouch, and feel the ground beneath me. Slowly, it tumbles away, leaving me to frantically jump back. Why? I’m here, and nobody will miss me…why won’t my body allow me to jump? What am I afraid of?

Seconds pass instantly. Minutes pass like seconds. Hours pass like minutes. I’m still here, holding my head and crying furiously. Rain’s picking up, hitting my face. The sting alone is forcing me to close my eyes. The waves are becoming louder. There’s no point opening my eyes anymore. There is no light. I’m surrounded by darkness.

Flash! I scream in terror as lightning flashes out at sea. My heart’s hurting me, it’s pumping so vigorously. Cuddling against my own legs, I bury my head within my knees. I’m lying only a mere few feet away from my destiny. Thunder comes, and I begin to cry loudly. There is nothing else I can do…

I need to jump now…or else I’ll just experience a more painful fate.

I stand, and walk over to the edge, still with tears leaking from my eyes. My damp, hair is covering my faces, almost blocking my vision. Still, as I look down, more tears come out. I clench my fist, as I punch my own self in the face. Looking determined, I look out to the sea, against this massive drop into my grave…

“Aaron don’t!”

------------------------

Where am I now? You deside…

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Fri Dec 17, 2010 8:09 am
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
:< I really do hope it is not anywhere closely tied to a true story.

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Fri Dec 17, 2010 8:56 am
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
;_;

T-that was great, Aaron

but sad D:

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Fri Dec 17, 2010 9:45 am
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
Part two: My Decision.

As I fall, the rain continues to whip my back, the back of my neck, the back of my head. It stings...why won't the torment end?! Can't I even die in piece?! I just want all to end!

Time seemed to play in slow motion as my descent continued. The jagged ledges of the cliff are jutting out at arm's length from me. Instinctively, I reach out and catch myself on one of the ledges. I pull myself up, but I slip. My own two feet have betrayed me! I fall on my stomach, able to see over the edge as a stone dislodges from the side of the rock cliff and my fear builds, intensifying as I listen, waiting for some indication of a bottom's existence. Minutes pass and still no news of any sort of landing. I can't take it anymore!

I cover my eyes. I don't want to look down. I don't want to jump. No longer. I begin to scale the side of the cliff, hoping to God that I don't fall. I don't want to die!

At last, I reach the top. My friend has given up, walking back to his car, disillusioned. I grunt while attempting to pull myself up. "Help!" I yell, trying desperately for his attention. "Aaron?" I hear him cry. He rushes to me and helps me up. I stand up, and he punches me in the arm. "What was that for?" I ask, rubbing my upper arm.

"That was for doing something stupid. Don't ever do anything like that again," he says, laughing as he rests his arm around my shoulders. "Let's get you home," he says. "You look like crap."

I laugh. "Yeah, great to see you, too," I joke. He opens the door on my side and I climb into his car. I sigh and relax, letting the tension just flow out of me. "I won't ever do that again, I promise."

Putting the car in gear, he looks me in the eyes and replies, "I'll hold you to that." The car reverses, turns, and we head home, drenched but satisfied. I now have a new appreciation for life; I almost lost mine.

---
I had to write it. I tried to stay within your style, Aaron. :)

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Fri Dec 17, 2010 10:14 am
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
I-I...wow...

That was amazing...and really unexpected Housedog. Thanks! A nice, happy ending, heh...I hope for the same...

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Fri Dec 17, 2010 11:57 am
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
44R0NM10 wrote:
I-I...wow...

That was amazing...and really unexpected Housedog. Thanks! A nice, happy ending, heh...I hope for the same...

It was one of those stories that I felt I just HAD to write. Doesn't happen often, and it's only to stories that really touch me...all I did was add to it as I saw it end. Thank you for the motivation, Aaron.

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Fri Dec 17, 2010 1:25 pm
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
*starts clapping slowly...building in volume and speed*

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Fri Dec 17, 2010 2:04 pm
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44R0NM10 wrote:
Based off a true story…just made slightly more epic...

So, here I am…on the edge of this…downfall. Waves crash against the cliff, almost like thunder striking the earth. Looking down…I can’t. Darkness has blinded me, as if my rage wasn’t enough. Still, I don’t care. This jump is all I need to take. This jump is all I need. This jump is…all I’ve ever wanted.

Yet, I’m too scared…

If I can jump, I’ll make it to the other land, and leave behind the pain of this one. I crouch, and feel the ground beneath me. Slowly, it tumbles away, leaving me to frantically jump back. Why? I’m here, and nobody will miss me…why won’t my body allow me to jump? What am I afraid of?

Seconds pass instantly. Minutes pass like seconds. Hours pass like minutes. I’m still here, holding my head and crying furiously. Rain’s picking up, hitting my face. The sting alone is forcing me to close my eyes. The waves are becoming louder. There’s no point opening my eyes anymore. There is no light. I’m surrounded by darkness.

Flash! I scream in terror as lightning flashes out at sea. My heart’s hurting me, it’s pumping so vigorously. Cuddling against my own legs, I bury my head within my knees. I’m lying only a mere few feet away from my destiny. Thunder comes, and I begin to cry loudly. There is nothing else I can do…

I need to jump now…or else I’ll just experience a more painful fate.

I stand, and walk over to the edge, still with tears leaking from my eyes. My damp, hair is covering my faces, almost blocking my vision. Still, as I look down, more tears come out. I clench my fist, as I punch my own self in the face. Looking determined, I look out to the sea, against this massive drop into my grave…

“Aaron don’t!”

------------------------

Where am I now? You deside…
You're on one of the Pittsburgh bridges.

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Fri Dec 17, 2010 8:56 pm
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
A brother's choice

How has life become this? Where I am surprised to do what should be natural to any human being…no, this should be natural to any living thing. Experiences are truly the only thing that allows me to learn. It’s scary though…why. I look back at myself, and see not just a jerk…but a monster…


“Are we there yet?”

“NO! Shut up, and stop asking!”

AAAAAAUUUUGGH! I hate him! That stupid 8 year old. Sure, he’s my little brother, but he wants to annoy me! That’s just nasty! I simply wish he’s shut up for once in his lifetime! For now, Mum and Dad have already just got into ignoring us. Who’s to blame them? Thanks to that baby, you can’t even hear the flipping radio.

Why’s he even here anyway? He deserves to stay at home…he’s just gonna spoil my fun. He knows all the buttons to press, and uses them against me. That’s almost EVIL. As soon as I look out of the window, he’ll say something to wind me up, I swear it. If he doesn’t do that, he’ll poke me so much I end up punching him. He drives me nuts!

“Muuuuuuum! Where’s my drink?”

This car drive is taking forever anyway, so he just gets even worse! I wish he’d shut up for 5 minutes! He’s just gonna end up spilling it, then we’ll have to stop so Mum can clean him… why do we even bother with somebody so useless? He’s making everything sooooo much harder!

Either way, we eventually get there; : theme park. An amazing theme park! Rides as far as the eye can see! The smell of hamburgers fills the air! What’s that sound? Screams of thrill from…’The BIG one!’ Nothing can go wrong! Nothing at all! I’ve already rushed off to the water slide!


“What the heck! Get lost!”

“Noooooo! I’m coming with you!”


I can’t believe that brat! He’s chased me all the way to the top! This is almost like a skyscraper as well. Only the stairway up, and the waterslide down. I bet he’s just here to annoy me as well, have a little fun from my expense. He’s already giggling like a madman. His bright red shirt, and torn jeans…wanna know why he tore them? Because mine are torn! He’s copying me! I hate when people do that, and he does it to anger me!

“I said ‘GET LOST’!”

There he goes. Running off randomly. My little brother is crying like a baby, simply because I hit him in the arm. Now he’ll tell Mum, and I’ll get in trouble. Same old same old. Rotten brat. I follow him at a walking pace. I’m gonna get in trouble. May as well accept the facts…

Wait, where’s he going?

In a matter of an instance, my little brother slips on the wet slippery floor. As if that wasn’t the worst, he slides and falls right off the side! ****! Instantly, I run to the side myself in a panic.

Time seems to go slower…he’s falling through the air. I can hear his last scream…the last scream before his death. My grip of the gates tighten, as I look on helplessly. BANG! He hits his head on a metal railing. That made him fall silent…is he already dead?

He carries on falling though, and lands in a river beneath. I-I caused his death…I killed him. What am I going to do? My mind is still in a sense of panic. My instincts take over my body. This is what gets mew though. I surprised myself when I did this…I surprised myself when I risked my life to save the life of who should be dearest to me. My own brother.

I jumped…but inside I’m crying.

I…I’m surprised that I jumped.

I’m surprised I tried to save my little brother…

What sort of brother am I?

This all happens so fast, as I land in the water. It’s deeper then I thought, although I felt a lot of pain on landing. My eyes are open, although they’re stinging in the murk waters. THERE! I swim to that small body…surrounding in redder waters. He was bleeding…probably from the head…maybe from where I hit him.

It doesn’t take me more then a couple of minutes to pull him up. Already, there are people there to help. I…I can’t hear him breathing.

I check his pulse...







…I wake up…covered in sweat and hating myself…

I’ve changed…as weird as it sounds, that dream put me right. I’ve not treated my little brother fairly…but, I’ve changed honestly. The past week, I’ve been playing with him…and appreciating him.


I can’t believe I was such a monster though…to be shocked that I tried to save him. It makes me want to break down and cry.

The question is…

If this dream happens some day…what will I do?


I fear myself, and I fear the future. It’s so…terrifying…


-------------------------------------------

Based off real events...sad, but real events.

...in other words, that was a real dream.

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Tue Feb 01, 2011 6:05 pm
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
Enrick's Last Day

The man was troubled, anyone could see that. His body was slumped over, his chest deflated, and the look in his emerald green eyes was one of such extreme sadness that one could scarcely look at them without starting to cry. Tears ran down the man's pale cheeks and fell onto his shirt and bubble breasted black satin coat. After a few moments the man rose from the antique winged backed chair in which he had been sitting, walked the short distance to the Large mullioned window and gazed out upon the world for what he knew would be the last time.

As he look out onto the immaculate grounds beyond the window he felt even worse if it was possible to do so. He would miss this place, he had put so much into it, his time, his money and what was left of his heart had been poured into this manor until his essence permeated the very stone. He did not want to leave but he just couldn't fight it any more. He could feel the cold empty feeling seeping out of his tired and broken heart. With one last look at the outside world the man turned and went back to his chair.

As he sat down again he felt the spread of cold speed up through his body. He looked over at the two pictures that adorned his desk. In one was the smiling face of a young mat In an old fashioned suit wearing a top hat with large green eyes that have a thin copper band around the iris. In the other was a hansom looking tomcat with bluish gray fur and thin black stripes. The man smiled as he looked at them he knew that between the two of them his legacy was in good hands. So it was wit this thought in mind that he laid his head back in his favorite chair and, With a small smile on his face, slowly slipped off into eternity.

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Tue Feb 01, 2011 8:10 pm
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
(hehe, Chaplin. Random much? xD)

Really likes the language used there Vespier! I think there were 1 or 2 spelling mistakes, but other then that I really enjoyed that read! :D

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Wed Feb 02, 2011 7:50 am
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
I thank you so much for your compliment! :D Though you are right. I have never been the best at spelling...

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Wed Feb 02, 2011 9:16 am
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
http://www.furaffinity.net/view/5245440 (I hope you have Office 2007 or later. If not I think you can use OpenOffice or Google Docs).

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Fri Feb 11, 2011 10:08 pm
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
The Tale of Springheeled Jack.

Chapter 1
A Pair O' Jacks
London October, 1863,

Evening was settling upon the ancient city and with it came a thick curtain of fog that started to creep slowly up from the Thames. As the fog slowly filled the city streets, a strange figure appeared on the rooftops overlooking Larken street. This striking individual was dressed all in a dazzling white with white knee high boots, white pants, white tailcoat, white gloves, white great coat and a white wide brimmed top hat. His hair was white and his young clean shaven face was pale as porcelain, his eyes were such a pale blue as to be almost white. For all this he appeared otherwise normal. Then he looked out across the street to a small balcony on the other side. The room beyond was dark; its occupants gone for the night. Upon seeing this, the figure smiled revealing impossibly white razor sharp pointed teeth, this was no ordinary man. The figure on the rooftop was the Demon Thief of London. This was Springheeled Jack.

“Ah London,” mused Jack to himself “so good to be home.” He then thought about where he had been for the past year and shuddered. He had not been that close to hell in a long time. An old friend had called in a favor and he had found himself fighting for his life in a sandstorm in the deserts of Egypt. He had managed to get out alive. He had been lucky.

He shook his head vigorously to bring himself back to the matter at hand. He looked once again at the small balcony. Time to go to work. He judged the distance to the balcony to be about sixty feet and, after adjusting his hat, he leaped off into the night.

***************************

He landed soundlessly on the balcony

“Perfect, as always.” he said with a smile. He then turned to the door and tried the handle, it was unlocked.

“Typical” he thought to himself “they never think of an attack from above.” He then slipped through the door and into the room beyond. Once inside he looked the whole room over. His gaze sliding over the many strange objects that clung to every available surface until they finally settled on the item he was looking for. In a glass dome on a wooden pedestal in the corner of the room was the best welcome home gift he could get. There, nestled in a bed of silk was a beautiful Egyptian signet ring.

“Well at least one good thing came from that unnerving little endeavor.” He thought to himself as he approached the ring. “ I now have a whole new genera of valuables to collect”. At that thought he chuckled to himself, a sound to make a man's hair stand on end. He then swiftly removed the ring from its perch and placed it in his pocket. In it's place he left his calling card, the jack of spades. With that he turned to the door and disappeared into the haze of the night.

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Sat Feb 19, 2011 10:41 pm
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
(apologies Anthroguy...but I'm terrible at even reading non-fiction...)

okay, I look forward to that demon thief of London. If you ever decide to make more of those, you need to tell me. That was really cool, and would be a wonderful prologue to a book (in my opinion). :mrgreen:

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Sun Feb 20, 2011 1:50 pm
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
it would mean a lot to me if anybody read this true story completely and gave me feedback...thank you.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My name is Aaron Miller and I’m a prefect.

At least, I should’ve been. Four years of school. Three days off. That is near perfect. This entire year, I’ve not done a thing against the school rules. I’m on target for all my subjects. I’m the ONLY student around school to ALWAYS wear correct school uniform. Maybe I’m a nerd; maybe I don’t care.

Either way, rumours are spreading across school. Prefects are going to be chosen. Me, I lean back in my chair in glee. Sure, I’ve never really thought about this much…but being a prefect would be really nice. I’d feel really proud, and would probably work harder. I look at my normal tie. It’s been worn down. 4 years of always being tight around my neck. It’d be great to get a new one…a golden one…

You know, gold has always been one of my favourite colours. It’s the colour of glory and perfection. The prefects get a nice badge, a golden and black tie…and respect. Maybe not respect by other students, but by teachers. That’s what really matters. I know I’ll have to lose some more of my personal time, but I don’t mind. It’ll be worth it. I’ll be recognised. I’ll be able to help others, in more ways that normal. I stop biting my pencil, and get back to work.

A week’s gone by. My form tutor begins to read out names to go to the hall. We all know why they’re going. They’ve chosen the prefects. Most of the other guys and girls in the class continue lazing. Who’s to blamer them? They don’t think they’re gonna go anywhere. Me? I’m sitting tall.

Adam.

Lucy.

Ben.

Come on now. It’ll be my name very soon…

Ross.

Charlotte.

Michael.

There’s only 2 more left…trust me to be last…

Ryan

The very last…

Amy.





What? I’ve already stood up as I heard the ‘A’. Are you telling me I wasn’t chosen? But, I know those others! They haven’t been as close to perfection as me! What have they got that I haven’t got? I sit back down, biting my lip. Now they’re laughing at me. This makes no sense. I have done everything, and I don’t get the one thing I deserve.

Time goes by, and I just think. Why were they chosen? Is it because of their grades? I’m not the most academic, so what? That’s the only thing I can come up with. Why would they choose smarter people, when I have the dedication? They come back in…with their FANCY new ties and FANCY new badges…

I stare at them all day. Jealousy burns.

Lunchtime. It begins finally. I’ve not taken my eyes off those FANCY ties though. We hang by the goalposts as the more athletic people play (English) football. On the bright side of all this, most of the people their actually tell me they’re surprised I didn’t make it. I know I’m not paranoid about it. That’s a great feeling, to know you’re not the only person who thinks that way. I play it off like I don’t care. They did realise I’ve been staring though. For better or worse.

Then, it happens. This little brat walks up to me. What does he say? “Stop being such a geek Aaron. Obviously, you didn’t deserve it.” I look down, a little hurt honestly. Luckily, one of my closer friends threatens to knock him out if he says that again. It’s nice to have close friends…but I still feel low now. After all my hard work, and after many people flat-out tell me I deserved it, some punk just says I’m nothing more then a jealous nerd who hasn’t worked hard enough.

Still, that set me off.

I walked away from that crowd. Where to? I went to get what I rightly deserve. I spent all that was left of my lunchtime (45 minutes) writing a letter. It focused on everything I thought was important. I mentioned my attendance and punctuality. The respect I give everyone…my confidence…

…then, I noted everything I could improve on. I asked how I can improve. If I didn’t make it to prefect…then I’ve got a staggering weakness I’m not aware of. That makes sense, right? I’m missing something, or else I would’ve made it, right?

It made sense to me, even now. I have the letter. The next morning, I’m a little scared. What if I get in trouble for this? No! I won’t! I’m just saying what I think of this predicament! This is my opinion…and it’s the only way I’ll be acknowledged. We had to leave early…and I just told my form tutor to read it whenever she’s ready. As the day goes by though, I anticipate my answer the next morning.

Will I lose my reputation with the teachers?

Will I end up achieving my coal?

Will she never read it?

Will-

“Aaron Miller, your form tutor wants you.”

My hearts beat rises dramatically. I’m being escorted to my form tutor not an hour after handing her the letter. This must be urgent to drag me out of my lesson. She’s going to kill me! I know she’s going to kill me! I just wanted her to know I think I would’ve been a better choice then all those other people! Why won’t she see that? Instead, she’s gonna call my mum and dad in, and tell them how much of a disrespectful student I am. I’ll lose everything! Everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve…gone.

Before going in, I’m terrified. I’m shivering. My teeth are chattering. Am I gonna cry? Yeah, she’s gonna yell, and I’m gonna break into tears.

“Aaron, I’m really concerned about this letter…”

I knew it. Now she’s gonna kill me.

“…are you failing your grades?”

What? What!? WHAT?! She cares more about my GRADES then how I feel about this! She doesn’t even bother about how much I’m saddened by the bloody news that I don’t deserve to be a prefect! That’s-that’s ignoring my feelings! That’s not right! Teachers have authority over us, and should care about how we feel and try to put things right! She ignored all I said about how much it means to me to become a prefect, and jumped to my grades!

…I lie and answer everything she asks…

I could’ve told her…but what’d that achieve? She obviously doesn’t care.

This is the sad thing though. At night, I can’t sleep. I’m thinking about why I want this so much. It’s just a tie, a badge and a title. I guess it’s because I think I deserve it. I guess it’s because I think I’ve done more then others have. I guess it’s because I’m me.


Maybe I’m power hungry…but that’s because I’ve never had power. I’ve always been the lowest of the food chain. Being the geek at school didn’t help much…and, now, even the teachers have forgotten about me. What is this…when I can’t win no matter what way I go? This leaves me at nothing. I want to be appreciated, and I’m willing to put the effort in…but nobody’s given me a chance.

I WAS THE TOP STUDENT LAST YEAR, AND THEY’RE JUST GONNA FORGET ABOUT THAT?

I forgot about that. It’s a metal trophy. The only one on my cupboard. Second proudest moment of my life. I need to get out more, I know.

Either way, the next day, I go to the next most powerful place. There’s one teacher in school who ultimately picks the prefects after everyone gives their suggestion. It seemed she hadn’t done that this year, but she still must’ve had a big hand. I’m talking about the deputy head. She’s my English teacher, and the second she found out I wasn’t a prefect, she left the classroom. She knew I was a great choice for prefect. Seeing a how she left so quickly, it’s obvious! I felt happy…happy that some people do appreciate me.

Within the day, I was called out of another lesson. I knew what it was about. Just because somebody heard that I wasn’t a prefect, she set things right. I felt acknowledged…as if all my hard work was for something. I had something that I’m always gonna be proud of. The same week the original prefects are chosen, I get in there as well. I’m overjoyed to join the ranks.

Still…I’ve learned a lot about myself. I feel really jealous if a friend gets something, that I think I deserve. I feel really passionate about power. I’m willing to put effort into getting what I want. This…entire attitude should help me in the future, right? I hope so.

This text is just a short summary of that week. There is much more details that are unneeded, such as the letter I wrote. Also, it doesn’t truly tell of everything I did. Simply I standing tall gave two of my classmates’ confidence to do the same. I lead the charge. I was the man of action. I won.

My name is Aaron Miller and I’m a prefect.


Power - by Aaron Miller (A.K.A. 44R0NM10)

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Sun Feb 20, 2011 2:54 pm
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
44R0NM10 wrote:
okay, I look forward to that demon thief of London. If you ever decide to make more of those, you need to tell me. That was really cool, and would be a wonderful prologue to a book (in my opinion). :mrgreen:


Thank you Aaron! It is a old version of the first chapter of my now 245 page novel. I have almost finished it and I might post some more of it as a Preview if anyone cares to read it.... That was a good story by the way, though Perfection and the persuit of it has driven many men mad...

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Sun Feb 20, 2011 5:34 pm
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
firstly, thanks for the complement! I am slightly mad in that department, hehe...

Also, You have got to link me to a way of buying that novel when you've finished it!

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Sun Feb 20, 2011 5:42 pm
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You are welcome My friend! It is good to be a little mad! :D I will put up said link When ever I can get the thing published...

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Sun Feb 20, 2011 5:46 pm
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
Hmmm...it's weird how I've never posted here before...

But this Tuesday (tomorrow!) a teenage author will be collecting short stories from my school to publish in her next book. This is what I was thinking of entering. All criticism will be taken into account, as long as it's good and not totally hateful (I really don't have time for haters).

Singing.
I’m going to start this out by saying one thing:

I’m not crazy.

Of course, everyone else would tell you differently. Tell you how, on more then one occasion, I’ve been found unconscious on the bathroom floor, but no one can tell why. Not even me; no, especially not me.

My parents think it’s because I’ve been doing drugs, though they can never find any proof. The doctor thinks I may have anorexia, but I’m much too fat for that. My brother, and kids at school think I’m playing some cool new game; see how long I can hold my breath until I pass out. Check it out, y’all, I sometimes heard Jesse brag. My sister, she invented the most dangerous gamble of all.

In short, they all think I’m some crazed 15 year old girl, that can’t think straight long enough to tell right from wrong, dreams from reality. I’ve felt them thinking about poor, poor, Mr. And Mrs. Seemson, with their naughty Jesse and that crazy girl, Randi.

But I swear I’m not crazy.

There are times when I agree with them. It would be so much easier to just agree with them. Oh, hey everyone, you were right. I am a lunatic!

But I can’t do it. Because I’m not crazy.

Most days, after coming home from school, I go straight to my room. I don’t bless anyone with a happy greeting, I don’t smile, I don’t eat. I just trudge up those stairs and into my room. I’ve done this so much; I can count the steps it takes from the front door to my bed.

It’s 63 and a half, by the way.

When I reach my bed, I toss my backpack on the pillows and I sit down. There’s no grand ceremony; I just sit. If nothing happens while I sit, then I bring my knees to my chest, hug my body tightly, and squeeze my eyes shut. I listen to the silence for a moment, before finding my tune.

Then I start to sing.

When I sing, I can almost forget everything. The accusations, the medications; it all disappears in the lyrics. I can just go through songs, singing the words with a confidence I don’t feel at other times of the day. I’ll sing and sing until my throat sores, and even then I still go on. In the back of my mind, I’m waiting.

And then it comes.

It washes over me, a sense so strong I lose feeling in my body. The presence actually lights up my face with a true, genuine smile. I continue to sing, though I can’t tell where the words come from. My soul? My heart? Maybe even deeper.

One voice, one loud, strong, confident voice picks up my song. We sing together; drowning out all the sadness and frustrations. Loud and proud, our voices pierce the air. We lift my depression.

I sing with the voice for two, three more songs. Only then do I dare to open my eyes.

And I always, without fail, see her smiling at me. Her old, wrinkled face, that kindly smile, those warm blue eyes—it’s all so familiar to me. Everything about her makes me happy; the feeling floods me with a joy I will never be able to explain. But I know that joy comes from her smile.

By then, I’d be crying. She’d shake her head, hug me tight, and whisper words of encouragement in my ear. Be strong, sugah. You be strong for Nana. It’s like she’s there. Her actual, living self is there, hugging me. Talking to me. Loving me, like only she can.

I love you, Nana. The words blend into my song. The come out with a shaky trill. She kisses my forehead…and then she’s gone. That presence just disperses, like she was never there.

Yet a single line will linger, reminding me that I didn’t imagine her, that she was really there. I love yah too, Randi.

Then my eyes would shoot open. I’d be sitting in the bathroom, twisted on the ground, with tears running down my cheeks. When I’m lucky, the stain of her lipstick on my forehead is still there.

I can never sing as lovely as I do around anyone but Nana. I’ve tried to tell people that, but they give me that look. The one that let’s me know they think I need to be placed in asylum. So many times, that look has made me lose hope; in the world, my family, myself.

I guess understand why “the look” exists. They were all at Nana’s funeral five years ago. They all watched her get buried, hymn-book in her lifeless hand, while wishing her singing skill could brighten up church one last time. Or add color to a dreary hospital room. Or make all the wounds and pains of life heal instantly. To think such a strong southerner like Nana Seemson could ever die…the thought still hadn’t sunk in. It never would.

But even though they all loved her like I did, I’m the only one that can still hear melodic voice, everyday, any day, singing with me and only me. Hugging me; kissing me; loving me like only she can.

And I can assure you, I’m not crazy.

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Mon Feb 21, 2011 4:15 pm
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
wow, that was awesome! Love the repetition used!

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Mon Feb 21, 2011 4:29 pm
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Post Re: Other Writing Efforts
That was Good Game! I liked the repition as well. And it has a good theme. :D

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Mon Feb 21, 2011 8:10 pm
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Post A Furry Love Story
I'm working on a novel, and may possibly split it into a series. The working title is A Furry Love Story, but it will be changed when it's finished. The first two chapters were posted her and on FA not too long ago, and I've even linked to that here. After that I wrote an outline, just to make sure that I have a set direction so that I can avoid being too spontaneous. These chapters have already been edited since they were posted. I'm not sure if I should post segments here and on FA or not. I may consider using SoFurry if I post it at all (I really hate posting on FA, it isn't writer-friendly in the slightest).

In the nutshell, I'm novelizing the relationship between my two (now deceased) dogs Henry and Ginger and setting it in Minnesota. This is also the story of my fursona and his girlfriend. As expected, I'm adding elements of my personality in the two main characters. I also intend to greatly amplify the drama and romance (taking advantage of the character's human traits) to levels that are possibly beyond what actually happened between my two dogs. There is also added symbolism which gives the story a conflict with society (again taking advantage of the character's human traits).

However, I'm a bit worried that it will become more cliché than intended or will not be taken as seriously as I would like it to be. I am encouraged about how well people say that I write. Time to put those skills to the test, I suppose.

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