ah-buhhh?

Today was supposed to be a normal day.

The cool blast of air felt nice on my face after the long walk which I had been subjected to after the bus broke down on this, the hottest day of the summer. As soon as I got past the multiple locks that kept my things away from everyone else, I went straight to the fridge and opened the freezer, where I received said blast. I stood there for a few minutes, letting the sweat on my face turn cold. Finally, I opened my eyes, wondering what frozen treat I could eat while waiting for the sun to set. Not really in the mood for a tropical fruit sensation, I settled for Rocky Road. I grabbed a cup from the cabinet, a spoon from the drawer, and took a few spoonfuls. Satisfied with the amount, I put the ice cream back and closed the freezer door. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, the kind where you don't want to do anything but take a long, glorious nap. Wiping the leftover sweat from my face, i went into my room and opened the windows, letting in what little cool air there was outside. Better to have some circulation than stuffy air, anyway. Looking outside, I could see the harbor, and the bridge. Gulls were floating in the air, their cries audible even from where I stood. The faint whistle of a train could be heard, as it slowed into the station. As my gaze wandered about the ocean shined light too bright in my eyes, so I shielded them and closed the blinds. I looked to my room. It was a mess, but it couldn't be helped. I had much work to do, and cleanliness was not my priority. At least, not at the moment. I pondered on whether I should clean a little before getting on with doing absolutely nothing, but my ice cream was melting, so I rescheduled my cleanup to an indeterminate hour. I took a few spoonfuls from my cup and set it on the table, the ice cream already turning into soup. Dropping into my chair, I switched on my laptop and waited for the system to start up. In the meantime, I had a little more of my soupy ice cream while reading a few pages from a nearby book that was lying around. Some lady was refusing a hot water bottle from her mother when the computer finally beeped to life. Setting the book down and finishing the last of my ice cream (well, drinking it, really) I wandered around the internet while listening to some music. Guitar chords clanged while an accordion began a little tune. I listened for a while, before deciding to skip to the next tune, which was even less appealing. I switched off the music player, staring at the screen in silence.

After a few hours of mindless surfing, I blinked my tired eyes. I peered through the window blinds and looked out into the amber horizon. The sun was finally beginning to set, taking the heat away with it. I breathed a sigh of relief, and got up. Taking my empty glass and the book lying next to it, I walked to the kitchen and deposited the glass in the sink. Grabbing my shoes, I stepped out into the amber light. It was still a bit warm out, but the sea air had already begun its work of cooling everything down. I thought about getting a sweater, but I decided against it. Besides, I wasn't going to be out long, just enough to get fresh air in my lungs. I began by walking towards the large group of buildings near my apartment. They were responsible for research, or something like that. I wasn't too sure, but then again, I didn't really care. The outside seemed harmless enough, so I had no problems with it. Passing the buildings, I walked past a line of trees, weaving around them as I passed by. I tossed my book in the air several times, until i finally dropped it. Not wanting to repeat the incident, I picked it up and moved along. Finally, I reached a large overpass. Walking through it, I looked up, admiring the impossible graffiti. Reaching some stairs, I climbed them and ended up on a pedestrian bridge connected to the side of the overpass. I took a seat, looking down at the train tracks below. I opened my book and began to read. As I was getting to the part where the heroine was not romantically inclined, I heard a soft mewing behind me. I turned to see a small black kitten looking up at me, expectantly.

"Sorry, kitty. I don't have any food." I said. I let out a little laugh and added, "You must be in some big trouble, huh?"

The kitten looked at me pensively. "Perhaps, but not nearly as much trouble as you'll be in."

what i don't even

i just have to drop this here. no fanfiction will ever top the amazingness of this one. oh, and this is from DOOM, that really, really old game.

"Repercussions of Evil"

John Stalvern waited. The lights above him blinked and sparked out of the air. There were demons in the base. He didn't see them, but had expected them now for years. His warnings to Cernel Joson were not listenend to and now it was too late. Far too late for now, anyway.
John was a space marine for fourteen years. When he was young he watched the spaceships and he said to dad "I want to be on the ships daddy."
Dad said "No! You will BE KILL BY DEMONS"
There was a time when he believed him. Then as he got oldered he stopped. But now in the space station base of the UAC he knew there were demons.
"This is Joson" the radio crackered. "You must fight the demons!"
So John gotted his palsma rifle and blew up the wall.
"HE GOING TO KILL US" said the demons
"I will shoot at him" said the cyberdemon and he fired the rocket missiles. John plasmaed at him and tried to blew him up. But then the ceiling fell and they were trapped and not able to kill.
"No! I must kill the demons" he shouted
The radio said "No, John. You are the demons"
And then John was a zombie.


all i have to say is whaaaaat. or, as bender would have said: "i saw it coming"

EDIT: Repercussions of Evil - The Movie!

I have a final tomorrow!

LOL

My eyes feel red

have you ever been up so late you can feel your eyes being red? as if every vein on the sides of your eyes has bulged up, so that the press against the sides of your sockets. so you close your eyes for a bit and massage them. but that only kinda gets rid of it. like, you can feel it, but it's much more faint. the annoying kind of faint. but at least it goes away. well, until it comes back again and you do the same thing all over. sometimes i rub my eyes until they tear up, and that usually does the trick. like eyedrops, except not nearly as effective. Where am i going with this? i have no idea.

Finals are nigh, and that means summer break nears. it's times like these we get introspective, look at how we did this semester, or even this year. for us older folks, we look farther back. What did we do all these years? Was it worth it? now where am i going with this? i also have no idea.

question: have you ever had to pee so bad you can feel it in your teeth? it's a strange sort of ticklish pressure pushing against your roots. sometimes i like that feeling. makes the act way more relieving. like you had to go so bad your whole body was telling you, as if your bladder wasn't an adequate messenger. again, no idea where this is going.

what a strange assortment of thoughts. maybe because i'm fairly sleepy, but not so sleepy that i don't want to stay up. I cut myself accidentally on a knife with a serrated edge on sunday. the cut's finally starting to close up, which is great, because my brain suddenly realized having a bandaid for this long is annoying. before today i barely noticed it. now it feels like i've been wearing it for too long.

alright, i think that's everything

the heartbreaking finale

The final part of a three part story!
part one here
part two here


From high above in his tower, the Beloved Leader looked down at his creation. After all, he controlled the lives of all he saw before him, so it might as well be that everything within the safety of this dome was his creation, his possession. This Raymond Finch, however, was a problem.

"Where did he come from?" he muttered to himself. He adjusted his glasses and looked on at the angry crowd that surrounded Raymond. This outsider, this anomaly, this stranger came from nowhere. The Beloved Leader didn't understand it. "That," he said aloud to himself, "I don't remember writing."

He sighed. "Time to do some damage control."

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

Raymond was still gasping for breath when the man in the striped suit stood before the crowd. "This man is an outsider! he has brought the threat of infection from the outside!"

"I'm telling you," Raymond let out, heaving. "There is no infection."
"And he lies!" the man in the striped suit yelled. "The Beloved Leader was right! No one from the outside should ever be trusted." Yells of agreement rang through the crowd. Raymond started to panic. Oh God, he thought. How will I get them to believe me?

"I'm not lying!" he yelled with all his strength. "The world outside is not a wasteland!" A rock flew from the crowd and hit Raymond on the temple. A stream of blood ran down his face.

"Lies!" a man in the crowd yelled. "Our young men never survive living in the outside for long!"

"Th- that's. . ." Raymond started, but his voice grew weak. He was being pelted with stones by the small children that pushed their way through the crowd to get a better look at the outsider. Every time a rock hit him, shrieks of laughter could be heard. "I got him!" a little boy yelled triumphantly.

The man in the striped suit suddenly held his had to his ear, as if he was listening to a walkie-talkie. "Silence!" his voice rang. The crowd hushed. "The Beloved Leader has spoken! His will is absolute." he turned to Raymond. "Outsider," he began. "It disgusts me to do so, but we are to present you to our Beloved Leader. He will deal with the damage caused by exposing us to your infection."

"I'm telling you. . ." Raymond began, but a swift punch in the jaw from the man in the striped suit stopped this.

"We are to bring you to our Beloved Leader, but he didn't tell us to keep you uninjured." A cruel smile crept across the man in the striped suit's face. he looked at the two men holding Raymond and nodded. Slowly, the crowd closed in on him.

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

Raymond found himself in a cell. the walls were smooth on every side, with no indication of any sort of door, or way out. Raymond could only feel this, because his eyes were bruised shut. He felt to see if anything was broken. Touching his chest, he cried out in pain. He couldn't be sure if his ribs were broken, but they did feel that way.

"Hello?" Raymond managed to call out. His voice sounded strange, distorted. He still felt a little dizzy.

Hearing nothing, Raymond limped to a corner and slumped down. Soon, he was fast asleep.

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

Out in the town, Charles was out of breath. The stunt Raymond pulled nearly had him killed. Hopefully no one saw him accompanying Raymond. That would have been the same as suicide. As casually as he could, he walked into the nearest bar. By now, the townspeople had begun going back to their regular routine, the festival spoiled by the sudden turn of events.

"Afternoon, Charles," The bartender said as Charles walked in. "You don't look very well. I hope the outsider didn't infect you."
"No, no," said Charles, nervously. "I'm just a little thirsty. I'll be having my usual."
The bartender nodded and reached for a glass. As he was filling it, he started to speak.
"I heard an interesting rumor," he began. The spigot was filling the glass slowly.
"Oh yeah?" Charles said, clearing his throat. "What about?"
"About the outsider."
Charles gulped. "Yeah, I hear he was brought the the Beloved Leader. That seems out of the ordinary."
"Yeah, it is strange." The bartender placed the glass in front of him, a resounding clunk filled the bar.
Charles slowly drank, letting the cool liquid soothe his throat. His nerves calmed a bit and he let out a relieved sigh.
"There's something else." the bartender said. Charles froze. "Rumor has it that the outsider couldn't have made it into our refuge alone. Something about getting some outside help."
"W-well, I wouldn't have any idea about that, now," Charles began. "But how true do you think this rumor is?"
"Oh, well, I think it has its points. After all, how could he have stayed hidden until now?"
"Well, he was from the outside, after all. They specialize in deception."
"Very true," the bartender nodded. "Well, shall i chalk this drink on your tab?"
"That won't be necessary, I have some money here." As Charles reached for his wallet, something hit him hard in the back of the head. Everything went black.

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

Raymond awoke with a start. The swelling in his eyes had gone down, so he could just barely. His chest, however, how radiated pain. Wincing, he used the corner to support himself up. Slowly, he looked around. Sure enough, as he had guessed, he was in a small room with four smooth white walls and a smooth white floor. Looking up, he noticed the white ceiling went fairly high above his head. No doors or any openings were visible. The whiteness of everything was so radiant, it seemed like everything was glowing. Suddenly, the wall in front of him went black.

At first, Raymond saw nothing, but as he focused on the darkness, something slowly came into view. Raymond couldn't tell what it was, but then he realized it was a large crowd. Raymond thought they were looking at him, a curious group looking at the monstrosity from the outside. However, Raymond soon realized that their backs were turned to him. They were gathered around something he couldn't quite make out. It looked like a post, in the middle of a large pile of something. Then he froze. Tied to the post was Charles, badly injured. Surrounding him was a large pile of wood.

"Hello, Raymond," a soft female voice called to him. Raymond looked around, but couldn't determine the source of the voice. "You caused quite a scare for my townspeople. I can't let that slide so easily."

"Who. . ." Raymond began, but he felt as if he already knew the answer. He was talking to the Beloved Leader. "Why is Charlie. . ."

"Tied up?" the voice interrupted. She laughed. "Or do you want to ask why he's about to die?"

"Die??" Raymond summoned the last of his strength and called out to the voice. "Why is he going to die??"

"What a silly question. Because he helped you, of course." And as if remotely signaled, a man with a torch slowly approached the wood pile. Charles slowly came to, and understanding the situation, began to scream. However, his voice made no sound.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I must've blocked the entry of sound into the room. Let me fix that." Suddenly, Charles' scream of horror echoed through the room, amplifying, intensifying. The fire slowly crept up to his feet.

"Stop this!" Raymond yelled. "He did nothing wrong!"

"No, he did something wrong. He messed everything up." The flames had now reached to his midsection. A mixture of pain and horror contorted his face, now beyond voicing his agony.

"Not to worry," the voice said. "I ensured he would have to wait quite a while to die. You see, I had him soaked in water, so that the flames would take longer to engulf him."

"Stop!" Raymond yelled. "Don't let him suffer like this! Isn't he someone under your care?"

The voice laughed melodically. "Don't be a fool. Why should I care if I lose one plaything?"

Raymond ran to the screen, his ankle shooting waves of pain through his leg. Pounding on it, he yelled, "Stop this right now! I'll do whatever you want!"

"Oh?" the voice said. The screen in front of him turned white again, but Charles' voice still echoed through the room. Then enter. A small hole appeared, which slowly grew into a elliptical door. Charles' screams slowly faded away. Raymond sighed a breath of relief. He walked though the door and into the darkness.

Raymond squinted his eyes and tried to make something out in the inky blackness, but he couldn't see a thing.

"Welcome to my inner study," a voice said, this time belonging to a man. "I apologize for deceiving you with my voice. Sometimes i just like to mix things up a bit, throw people for a loop. Raymond said nothing, still shocked by Charles' torture. Suddenly, a single light came on several feet ahead, illuminating a desk. A man was sitting behind it, shadows obscuring his face. All Raymond could make out was the glint of his glasses.

"Is Charlie okay?" Raymond asked.

The man shrugged. "Actually, he's already dead."

Raymond was at a loss for words.

"What you saw actually happened hours ago. He's just ash and bone now, I'm afraid. It took awhile, too. All that screaming got old, fast."

Raymond clenched his fists. "How-" but he couldn't finish his sentence. He was at a loss for words, his anger flaring.

"How could I, you ask? Because I can." The man stood up and walked over to Raymond. He could finally see his face for the first time. He was brown-skinned, with glasses and dark, short hair. He looked young, perhaps twenty. Raymond wanted nothing more than to punch his face in, but he suddenly realized he couldn't move a muscle.

"Raymond, Raymond." the man began. "Why did you and Charles mess things up? You were supposed to come waaay later. I mean, the Karen subplot was meant to dramatize your arrival, but instead, you decided to barge into things."

Raymond didn't understand what was going on. "What do you mean? Who are you?"

The man grinned. "I created you. I created all of this, actually." He waved at the darkness that surrounded them. "Well, you know what I mean. I created everything."

"How could you?"

"That's easy, because I wrote all of it. Of course, I couldn't well have my creations call me Vincent Lim. How imposing is that? So Beloved Leader was the only thing I could think of. Cliched, i know, but it gets the point across."

Raymond couldn't believe what he was hearing. Plot? Characters? It didn't make sense. "You're lying. You're just some crazy tyrant, controlling the lives of countless people."

"Ahh, but isn't that just what a writer is?" Vincent walked around Raymond. "Aren't we just tyrants, plotting out the fates of our creations, leading them to glory or off a cliff?"

"Whatever you say, as soon as I can move, I'm going to kill you."

Vincent laughed. "You, kill me? I created you! Besides, even if you killed the me right here, you'd be killing a ghost. I'm really on my bed, in my apartment, typing this in the middle of the night. Watch this." Quickly, he walked back to his desk. taking a pen, he started to write something down. From the darkness, a girl appeared. Raymond's eyes widened. ". . .Karen?"

The girl, confused, looked over at Raymond and burst into tears. "Oh my God, Raymond! Where did you go?" she ran over to him. "Oh God, look at you, what happened?" She brushed her fingers over Raymond's eyes. They were cool to the touch, and felt revitalizing.

Vincent looked at the exchange with delight. "Do you believe me now?"

Karen looked a Raymond. "I'm scared. Where are we?" Raymond smiled at her and told her to remain calm.

Raymond winced in pain, but he looked at Vincent straight in the eye. "Fine. Then what happens next?"

Vincent frowned. "I'm not sure. I just kind of did this as I went along, you know?"

Raymond stared at him. "So you decided to kill Charlie on a whim?"

"Now, now, Raymond, no need to get angry. After all, it was both of you that ruined a good thing. It's only natural that you should be punished."

"What's going to happen to me?" Raymond asked, but Karen interrupted him. She looked at Vincent with a cold stare. "Are you responsible for all this bullshit? Just leave us alone."

Vincent laughed. "Alright, Alright. I'm the writer, after all. I could just end the story here."







I guess that's the end, for now. This story needs some major tweaking, but I hope you enjoyed reading it.

OH GAHH ANOTHER COMMERCIAL?

So eventually, I'll get to finishing that story. Maybe in that lull between finals, that eye of the storm. But for now, what better way to procrastinate on an essay than to blog? Thaaat's right, blogging always makes things better. It's like work, but not really!

So I guess today I'll present a thought:

Have you ever had deja vu? When you did, did you ever describe it to the person you're with? Deja vu makes you the biggest fool ever. Why, you ask? Let's present a scenario:

You and a friend are walking through the grocery store aisle. Your friend grabs a box of cereal, shakes it, then puts it back on the shelf. Both of you continue walking. "Woah, I just had deja vu," you say. "Really?" your friend says. "Yeah," you say. "We were both walking through the aisle of this grocery store, and then you took a box of cereal, shook it, then put it back."

FOOL! YOU JUST DESCRIBED THE LAST FEW SECONDS. Without the context of deja vu, it just sounded like you were giving a recap of the immediate past. This is high-larious and surreal. Deja vu is a cruel mistress that makes you sound like a crazy liar.

Well, that was bouncing around in my head for a while. Back to work!