Sooo.. today I get on and check my messages, and I decide to watch These Pancakes Are Tiny, cause I haven't in awhile. I have to say first off that the flash is amazing, and I hope it keeps it's hold in the top flashes of all time, because it really is good. The animation and gestures from the characters really reminded me of The Emperor's New Groove, which is a personal favorite of mine, and the pancake dude almost had a Floamy vibe to him at times..
But I digress..
I got done and I'm reading some recent reviews, and I notice a lot of people pointing out about how the author should disregard any bad comments, so I start going through and looking at previous ones that rank below ten.
I see soo many people that when they comment they complain about the cussing or something that is of a personal nature. Now some people did complain about how the animation wasn't good(which I wonder why, when you look at some of the stuff that is on here and some of the stuff that is on the front page), but with personal things, I'm pissed, because I think, 'just because you don't like cussing, should you rate it like a 7 or a 5?'
But then I stop, and I think, and for the life of me I can't figure out in my tiny brain if you should be voting to how you liked it, or if it was good..... and even then the line is so fine it's like dust in the wind....

So now I'm sitting here, and I'm rocking in my chair like I've been listening to the banana phone for three hours straight, and I keep running all this s#!@ through my head like 'You should just think of the quality, not the personal viewpoint. But then what about people's opinions? Well the flash is still good though, should it matter if there's a little cussing? But people have a right to- ARRRGGGGGGHHH!
I can't get it out of my head!!! And my butt hurts now because I've been slumped here running thought after thought as though I have a test tomorrow and it's on the Theory of Relativity......

I can't take it......so......................I've decided then that I will just leave it alone, and let other people b!tch on here if they want to.....unless it's abusive.....and then I'll flag-THE END! (heehee)

So...is anyone else wondering when the new There She Is! is coming out? I'm waiting for the end, and it's been months und months. I know it takes awhile, but I'm just so darn impatient..

I don't know if my mother was a stern woman.
I don't know if when I dropped and broke a glass
If a spanking would be close behind.
I don't know if my mother was a kind woman.
I don't know if when I came home
Anxious or upset
If she would hold me close
And tell me that everything was all right.

I don't know if she was a funny woman,
And I've never heard her laugh.
I don't know if she was unhappy in life,
And I've never heard her cry.
I don't know if she regrets her past.
I don't know if she was talkative or quiet.
I don't know if she preferred coffee or tea.
And I don't know how she felt about me..

For you see I've never met my mother,
She was gone before I got the chance,
Before I could even complain about her strict rules,
Or the way she embarrassed me in front of my friends.

I've never gotten to laugh at the lame jokes she'd tell.
And she'd always seem to forget she's told them a thousand times.
I've never seen her smiling face,
Or her disappointed look that made me feel awful inside.
I've never gotten to share a good thing that happened to me,
Or tell her about my awful day.

I'm not one to point fingers,
I'm not one to assign any blame.
I'm not one to sit and think about what could have been,
Or that things might not have been the same.

But I can't worry about what could have been,
My friends say I should move on.
I can't think of the way she left me,
For it's not my fault she's gone.

Some say it happened for the best,
Others that it's 'mysterious ways'.
But if she hadn't tried to have me,
She might still be here today.....

... The key's edge was so smooth against the tip of her finger; like the thin edge of a knife. Cool to the touch, jagged against the skin, she held it in her palm, constantly running her fingers over it again and again.
It was pitch black outside, but she could still see the key lying flat in her hand. She could have drawn the outline she knew the ridges so well. A thousand times she had stood there, looking at the shed, the moon above her, big and bright, yet giving off no light, the coolness of the breeze as it blew through her hair, the smell of the night sky, and the sense of awe and wonderment that accompanied her whenever she gazed at the shed.

But this time was different. This time one key element had changed in all of the times she had stood before the shed. And as Melanie stood there, her cloak blowing almost sideways in the wind, her hair now in front of her face, the stillness of her body, like a statue erected in front of some national monument, she realized the difference of this meeting. She realized just how much things would change after this night. Because as many times as she had stood in front of this shed, as many times as she had stared at the plain wooden walls, the tall, thin door with its shining gold knob, looked at the roof as the moonlight bounced off of it, she had never done one thing.
It was an exhilarating feeling to be thinking of what she was going to do. Her adrenaline was pumping, her heartbeat was racing, and her smile grew the longer she stood. All had changed but for one thing... her eyes. They weren't narrowed or pointed. They didn't even blink. They just watched, watched with the one thought in her mind, the one thought that might change the rest of her life.
She stood there, her heart beating so loud she could hear it. And as her smile grew until it stretched from ear to ear, she heard the words in her mind, almost like a mantra that she repeated over and over again...
'...I'm going to open it...'

..myself included."

I chose to write this on Newgrounds first this time, partly because myspace und others make me lag(darn wireless), and because it has quickly become my home away from my cushiony, black swivel-chaired home.. I wonder why I'm even writing this..but oh well.....

I got inspired to write this after a mini marathon of some Bitey of Brackenwood videos..
..you just gotta love that little creature :)

I smelled the dough before I saw it. It was a phrase that entered my mind every time this happened.. I was little, but I knew much more than they all thought. Hot melted cheese seemed to seep into my brain, making my tiny little head drunk from the smell.
It seemed there was something always on that counter, and I was always too short to see what it was.. could that be why I was so curious a taster of foods when I was young? It makes sense, as that would be the only way I could see half of what stood on that tile, cooling down..

I always took the food outside. My favorite place was at that house. I could never believe how big that land was.

....sorry it took me so long to post this, but I haven't gotten around to it. Today I finally got time off after finals and I completely forgot, but here it is :)

::::::

There are a few designated books I'm working on, and a few random stories that might fit into others, but might just stand alone.. or might even mutate into other books in time.. who knows......

- The Avid: this is a project I started around...oh, say September, October of Freshman

year.. It's a really out there fantasy book that involves Earth... and then a trip for the main character, Melanie, to this planet Avid. It involves controlling the elements and such, but I think I do it in a neat way. However, I am waiting for someone to read this and tell me I made a scam off Avatar: The Last Airbender, and Harry Potter. My story is different people, so Bring-It-Ahn!! *grr, angry face*

- The Sheets I Stole: now this one I'm not sure when I will ever come back to. It's been

sitting on the back burner for a few months now. I actually posted the first chapter to it as a blog. It starts off with my Uncle's memorial service, and I was going to do something where I added to it every Saturday night like I did when I wrote it that first time. I think what would be really cool would be to get that date and just do that every year, and add to it over the years, not touching it in between then. However, that might also mean that it will take a life time to complete, and I might have to leave it to someone to publish when I die, but that's okay, I think it would be probably the most unique perspective I have ever written. It would also present an interesting contrast between all of my writing styles, and how it will have progressed in the lapse of the previous year. It's still a debate in my head, but it might prove to be my greatest work. Only time will tell....

- On the Move in Cincinnati: this story scares me a little bit, but also is very appealing in a

macabre sort of way. It's about this extremely wealthy business man who(now I don't ever describe it in detail so don't get your panties in a bunch), rapes and murders little girls. I'm still debating as I write rough drafts about whether he rapes them or if just the kill is what he loves. Not sure, although, this definitely wouldn't be something I would publish for a long time, and I would have to turn it into a sort of murder mystery, minus the mystery of the identity of the killer, so that it would be accepted by a general audience. I think a few people would be very offended by the content if I didn't do that otherwise.. but I'll think of something, don't worry.
But this one appeals to me the most I think because it would cause me to deal with things I wouldn't normally write about: mystery has always been a problem for me. I think the last thing I got into when it came to writing mystery was the fifth grade, and since we had to adhere to a structure for the class, I failed the assignment. Also, this would deal a lot with certain things I don't know much about. The workings of a detective(though I should read a lot of Edgar Allen Poe maybe to get a perspective, maybe even some Conen Doyle stuff too) is definitely not something I have ever written about.. successfully.. but it's a challenge that would be fun to investigate, and I know that once I finished, I will have opened up an amazing door for my writing.

- My Love is a Beast Inside: Now this is a story I am very excited about, though I haven't

told a lot of people about it. Only two or three so far. This is the first horror story I have ever written, so I'm always really excited to step into new genres... I got the idea for this from the point-n-click game Exmortis. I never finished the game because creativity struck and I got an idea and just started typing away. It's still definitely in the planning stage, so I haven't even gotten passed the first chapter, but I think I see big things for it. It starts out with a man driving late at night through this forest to get to a town that he has to stay that night in(still developing his career, which I think should pertain to the plot.. maybe it won't, I'm not sure). He is suddenly overcome with a tiredness and he drives off the road in this fog. Before he crashes he thinks he sees this big dark thing in the middle of the road. But he doesn't swerve to avoid it, the car simply drives off right before hitting it. It deals a lot with a werewolf sense, and it also has to do with love, because I'm lame like that :P, but I still love this story so far.
By the way, the title deals with....well, maybe I'll just wait until it comes out before disclosing the 'Love/Beast' inside of the main character ;) ...and no it isn't a werewolf that rapes people...perverts..

- The Key: this is actually a bit confusing, because I haven't yet figured out if this might be

a prelude(prelude? is that the right word) to The Avid yet, or if it will spin off into it's own little thing.. It's very short, barely being a page long, and it all describes Melanie(who is the main character in most of my books), standing in front of a shack, shed, whatever, in her backyard. Her very extensive backyard I might add. I'm thinking she's either extremely rich, or her family just owns a lot of land. I might make it into a ranch style sort of thing. But I don't know, that seems to Hokey for the tone I want to set for The Key. Well, anyways. She's standing in front of this...thing, in her......backyard, and she has this key in her hand, and the key opens the door to the shed, which she found out years ago as a little girl, but she was so scared to open it when she realized the key fit into the lock, so she ran away before opening it.
We find her now contemplating this for the last time, because this is sure to be the time when she will unlock the door, and discover the secrets. It is very loosely written around a plot so far, although the shed has a pull that you discover during the contemplation, and then after she opens it, which she does.
Don't worry, her opening up the door isn't the whole point of the book, so keep your hair on..

- The Sweetness of Life: I love this story for a number of reasons. One, because it was tied to a really nice day of sugary strawberries and a warm summer sun, and because I love how I wrote it, it's style is something I rarely get when just spilling out my thoughts. Usually I have to work on getting timing like this right, but this was nice. I like the suspense of it, even though just reading what I have, it wouldn't make any sense.
It's Melanie again, and this will probably be tied to The Avid somehow as well, though it might be in a later part of what I hope will be a series, for The Avid is too big a story to get out in one book, unless I want to take on the reputation of Tolstoy. She is just thinking about these delicious strawberries she is eating, letting her mind wander. Earlier, in the room she is in, probably a day or so before, she had noticed a gun in a small chest that clicked when you opened it. And as she's eating the strawberries she hears the sound of the gun being cocked, and realizes that someone is pointing it at her. She curses herself for not having heard the chest click when the person had opened it. It's a short little blurb that stands on it's own, but that's okay, I like it all the same. But it's nice because it shows the character of Melanie as she grows older with the story.
This will end up proving difficult to write for Melanie in The Avid, as she grows up on the planet of Avid, because she is dealing with this whole new life and such, and because back when I first started writing this I could give off this sense of ignorance and such, but now I will have to go back and recapture some of the shyness and character I have lost that I used to put into Melanie..

......das endE

........So I realized today that I have been eating the most random foods lately. Like yesterday, my friend came over, and from the time of about 1 o'clock pm to now, I ate green onions with some vinaigrette, some Mystic Pizza, sweet and sour pork with chicken fried rice *drools*, some whipped cream, Turkish coffee, a few Pepsis, mashed potatoes, a few hard-boiled eggs, some toast, more Turkish coffee, some cheddar cheese, that I thought must be extra extra sharp until my friend informed me it was dried out, some hot dogs, and a Marie Callendar's slow roasted pot roast with garlic mashed potatoes and some green beans, which I didn't eat cause they were gross....

how f-ing random is that. and no joke, most of that is in that order, so like, I was eating bites of pizza, with some green onions, munchin' on some pork while licking whipped cream off meh finger...

Anyways............I thought I would share that utterly pointless epiphany.....

If I seem rude or impolite,
Angry, resentful, or full of spite,
Forgive my mood, and remember please,
That there is always a cause more than what you see.

A day is a day from him who shall speak
But know you not, how it left him broken and weak.
Can you truly look, and say with no doubt,
That this man has nothing to complain about.

Every day seems merely words,
No matter how awful, amazing or absurd.
We take what we hear, but do we feel,
Do we share the hardship, and feel as they feel?

Will you listen next, as we sit in our room,
And I fill you in on that day's gloom,
As I tell you my stories, and share what had come
And why I walked in, looking oh so glum?

Will you understand everything, perfectly clear,
Will you realize its depth, as it goes in your ear?
Will it strike in your brain, as it had done in mine,
Or will you sit idly, minding the time?

Will you respect what I went through that day,
Or will you be forced to act and play?
Will you understand, my experiences too,
As being just more, than an anecdote or two...?

My life is not simple, and it is not clear.
Sometimes it is happy, and hard to even bear.
But I tell you this, and I hope you will agree,
That next when I speak, you listen more than just to me....

How far the greedy man has fallen down the ladder which he has climbed,
So far will a sharp man improve his wits once he has cleared his mind;
And so indeed the greedy man will look, and to the other despise,
For he sees his mistake in that he was devious when he really should have been wise;
A yearning which the both were born, a hunger which grew every day,
For one, a means to expand his thoughts, the other, a means to be paid;
And both these men with different thoughts, were both so simply the same,
As both were equally guilty of greed they just played a different game.....