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The Fire (Chapter 1)This is what happened on the 29th and (most of) the 30th of June. I will upload another section tomorrow, and when the story is finished, merge it all together. I would say enjoy, but its perhaps not the best of stories.
The story begins in the early hours of the morning, on Saturday the 29th of June, 2013. I've just come back from a trip to Belgium, a school trip, and the coach has just arrived back at school. Since I have to walk home through a, let's say, sometimes unsavory town at 3 am (my mother doesn't have a car, and I can't drive...) I am accompanied by my dear mother. Walking past a stupid person who just so happened to be on the same trip, we head off home.
We talk about relativity un-interesting things, that I can't really remember, as we stroll through the neighborhood. I think I mentioned the rainbow lolly pop that I purchased there which was full of E numbers and kept me awake for part of the journey.
At home, I walked upstairs, past the kitchen (that was still fun
EightEight is a number, but it is also many other things.
It is a bar in my hometown.
And a date on the calender.
It is the asterisk symbol on the keyboard
And a symbol that appears like this: 8
There are figures of eight
People aged eight
Eight more days to go...
Eight more days until my birthday, on the 8th day of the 8th month.
My mind is missing :3Mr.iTunes was sitting at his desk. Suddenly, his 'unhappy customer' detector beeped.
He looked at it and saw something from deviantART.
It was a journal entry, by TheIrritatingPenguin.
'Bob?' He called his assistant.
'What now? Another one?'
'We may need to leave the country for a bit.'
Bob sighed. 'Again?'
Bob walked over and read the journal entry.
'That's worse than usual'
'Yeah, I know' Mr.iTunes replied.
'You know, you could actually make them happy?'
'Where's the fun in that?'
TheIrritatingPenguin sat at their desk.
They sent a message to Mr.iTunes.
'REMEMBER THIS MESSAGE, FOR IT SHALL BE YOUR LAST.
With an evil, evil, evil, evil, evil laugh, they set off...
Only 11.You know, since the series finale of Doctor Who, I've been thinking...
'How many Doctors are there?'
I've found the answer.
Now, we saw John Hurt at the end of that episode, but he isn't the Doctor. He was the one who broke the promise. There may be 12 regenerations of him...
But there are only 11 Doctors.
What ever 'he' did, we should never find out...
But I have a feeling that we might.
Preview of a tale.I traveled in time.
Once upon a time I was walking along, when I saw a portal like thing. I tripped over a banana skin and fell into it, therefore traveling in time. I knew this because I saw dinosaurs. I then woke up and realised that I wasn't dreaming.
Drowning in this AddicitonI tried to drown out your voice
Inside the lies, I made my choice
With my lips against the bottle
I tried to swallow the memories
I put the speed of my destruction
In complete full throttle
I brought this about, a self induction
Laying here drowning in my worries.
Just laying here in my corruption.
I could whisper to you my series of sorrows,
Instead I'll just lay here in my low,
Or I could borrow another bottle
Of sweet nectar and fire
As my blood acquires
The song of a liar.
Brittle and bare,
Lay me to rest on the wave
Aware I am this may be my early grave
with a kiss to my Jackie D.
Like a whisper to the noose waiting
For me under the elm tree
as I am aching for another bottle
Of sweet nectar and fire
As I try to rejoice
I think I finally have forgotten your voice.
chasing uphill warsover time we have - overthrown time
and in becoming its ruler can see
of dark clouds above the delta
skies aurum and gun-metal gray
in the demonstrable distance
and sights of dis-in-teg-ra-tion
are felt savagely slowing
their innocuous prey
senescence will plan her revenge
like an animal held
out over a ledge by its ankles
for a taste of its own skin
subterfuge at the cube farmreclaimed meat
we were once solemn beings
like epaulets from imperious shoulders
diluted in bottles and sold
back to our fledgling descendants
curfew urgencya calamine itch of faith
with the wrong enzyme in the right coincidence
far from our former
jigsaw made for sadists
and burgeoned forth a neon beacon
built by bedlam hominids
germane in our inertia painting
perfect arcs through space
a life expressed by movement
through non-newtonian fluid (s)
the pristine math
left by those we have replaced
life in the exospherethere's a plague upon the cattle
but they can see
well beyond hermetically sealed skies
above savagely conquered revenge
tinctures of light and darkness
on the warm midnight horizon
where many things are learned
and many things are lost
chasing worms uphill and being
consumed by their debris
know heretofore as
a temporal causality
Velum TempestumWiatr przyniesie sól, deszcze i ból
Pod chmurnym niebem zapłaczą drzewa
Ja będę wyć, rozdzierać i bić
Rozetnę słońce pazurem cienia
Deszczu biczem uderzę w twą twarz...
Zostawię na niej szramy
Bo jam jest sztormu pan i gradu,
Jestem ja wiatr nieokiełznany!
Jam Orkan, Huragan, Tajfun,
Uderzę znów, pełnia czy nów
Gdy nie będziecie się spodziewać
Przyniosę deszcz, przyniosę gniew
I gradobicie i los i cios!
poor directionsit's a drug
addicts so high
waking each day
crawling for miles
for a drop on their tongues
a sweet sound in their ears
a tainted air in their lungs
retreat to faith
when you run out
let's be brutally honest
it's another excuse
a desperate delusion
you've lost your reason
you've lost your dreams
you've lost your way
are you so empty?
are you so blind?
are you so weak?
with a promise of forgiveness
you can be as immoral as you need
it's okay to rape and to kill, God'll forgive
are you out of your fucking mind?
you're excused for crimes
because you prayed tonight?
how do you live in these lies?
has your need for answers
led you completely astray?
MeThis is me.
I am me.
I don't know what me is.
Me is me.
I don't know me.
Who am I?
I wake up.
And I think.
Well, I don't, but you don't know that.
Well, you do now.
When I feel me.
Is this life?
We are all dying, which is true but a little pessimistic.
Every second you live every time you smile every time you see anything, you get closer to dying.
We live, we die. What is the meaning of life?
To have fun, to live, to see stuff.
Oh look it's a glass, either half full or half empty.
Apparently, it tells you how you look at life.
'It depends, *GANGNAM STYLE JUST CAME ON YAY ITUNES * on whether it has been filled half way...
Or filled fully then half drank.
Why am I writing this? I got inspired by Viva la Vidi, because I love it, but my Mum says stuff about it.
Which I don't like.
And I listened to it, and I was...me
But now Gangnam has changed me.
This is gonna get a different feel. But NOW gangnam
Vanguard, Chapter 1: DuncanDuncan's Journal: Day 1288
I consider myself a good man. I respect women, elders, my equals, and the dead. I say a morning prayer, and an evening one. Hell, I even thank the gods for a meal, instead of immediately chowing down in the voracious manner as the other soldiers here do. By all logical means, I should be in paradise. No really, not just because I'm a good man, but also because I should be dead by now. So I ask myself: why, oh gods up there, have I ended up in hell?
1288 days. 1288 days of my life have been spent in this misery, and I'm beginning to lose faith in the glory I was promised. Some of the rookies still live in their ignorant bliss, but I've lived long enough to realize that there's not much glory to find here. “Sing the songs of glory and march into battle—-join The Crusade today!”. Such were the words of the posters The Crusade has spread all over The Mortal Realm. Gullible fools practically stand in line for these songs of glory that th
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