Exhaustion
Kion drew the curtains from his window, carefully scanning the horizon, where parting clouds illuminated rolling hillsides. Light illuminated his room, twinkling and shimmering against a large collection of miniature glass animals resting on his shelf. He took a moment to scan his room with the new light. His bed, simple and unmade, was now bathed in dusty rays. Yellowing walls framed the pale rug at his feet. Nothing else existed. Nothing else needed to exist.
He quickly shut the curtains again, as if afraid of onlookers, and stumbled to his bed, falling onto it in a moat of dust. He was exhausted, feeling his eyes droop into we
Part I:
Why Linux?
That, my dear friend, is an interesting question. If I buy a Windows or Mac PC, they will run perfectly fine, right? Well, yes. They will. For the average user, who simply wants to browse the internet, Windows and Mac are nearly indistinguishable. When you go a little deeper, you begin to notice subtleties between them. Mac, for instance, is known to be a bit more stable than Windows, but lacks the necessary compatibility to make it a viable choice in all circumstance. That being said, there have been great strides in advancing Mac software to make it on par with Windows, if not better; however, in terms of gaming and the
I am not a writer, but an author, one who creates a reality to dwell within. It is here that my heart lies: in the realm of creation and inspiration. I do whatever I can and must to spread that inspiration, the raw drive to create, to othersif only because it is the only existence I can possibly conceive for myself. It is not, however, the only existence imaginable to me, just the closest one. In fact, I relish the opportunity to dabble in the realities of other individuals, to feel them as their ideas well from their minds and rush beneath my feet as if newly formed spring, a wealth of knowledge and insight. This, in many eyes, lies at
Leios drew a deep breath of ashen air, coughing as frigid spikes pierced his lungs. The mourning red sky reflected the filthy war of the night before, crying snowy tears as the wind whipped piles of dust into the air. Rampant bombarding blasts still resounded in his memoriesa chaotic heartbeat of hatred and deceit. He was lying alone, siphoning the spirits of both friend and foe lost in the night's gore. The field, once a sea green had been dyed a graying white with crimson splotches throughout. This was the end.
Beside him lay a small puddle, yet to be frozen by the chilled Earth. He crawled desperately toward it, wasting what little
A Naiad, Scene 1
Son of Poseidon, the great lord of sea,
And of Ophella, grand queen of Pyree,
The mighty Ecte, warrior of old,
Now lay on the battle plain, stale and cold.
5 He rested with his sword in sturdy grip.
His lips now uttered one, final cantrip,
Bestowing his power and great esteem,
To his son Fthiro to finish his dream.
The great Leviathon, his ancient foe,
10 Now wailed before him, its anger aglow.
Blood bubbled and oozed from the beast's lost fin,
It flailed and fell, creating a din.
It then growled, shaking the earth with it's tail,
Gaping its mouth with a rhythmical flail.
15 Ecte had won, but at a p
My great-grandfather used to tell me, "Don't chase after manatees because you'll only end up with a anatidaephobia in your humerus." I never quite understood his advice until one Yom Kippur, I was gardening with my best friend Sophia. All of a sudden, we found an underground tunnel! It was constipated and spooky sounds came from deep within. Sophia saw something interesting inside, jumped in, and I never saw her again. Great-granddaddy was right!
Willy Wonk and Wonky Will, only together are they sane.
They live in a cave so dreary, that it's really inhumane.
They dance the dance of pleasure, and fight to move upstream.
Only themselves do they treasure, such a filthy team.
They argue, fight, and bicker, trying only to best each other,
But their heads could be no thicker, as they strangle one another.
Willy Wonk and Wonky Will are quite dangerous, as you might see.
Their existence, alone, is treacherous, but they feel only glee.
To them, life is a simple game, hardly worth their time,
Though somehow they have garnered fame, living lives of grime.
They have a following in the t
Quietly, Leios rested beneath the bosom of a great Oak, with a simple notebook and pen on his lap, yet he had not written a single word. Instead, he gazed into the sky, where the sun's harsh rays illuminated the translucent foliage of the tree, creating a patchwork quilt of light and shadow. He sighed and glanced beside him, where a plain mirror, square and roughly the size of his forearm, peeked out of his satchel, perfectly reflecting his view, and bouncing the sun's harsh rays to the earth beneath them both. He chuckled slightly and then darted his eyes in sheepish languor. He did not know what to think. He was guilty for a crim
A little known fact the artist once knew,
There's more than five shades of the color blue,
And with every fail-ed venture of yours,
Comes seven more a'knocking at the doors
Of yet unopened worlds for you to see,
If only you knew of what they could be!
And of the scientist, who once said, "fact:
Though I cannot combat your wit and tact,
There are certain laws for us to abide,
No matter how you wish to change the tide.
I have come from years of learning, you see,
Which drain'd my individuality."
And on religion, a wise man once dreamt
many visions of wretched discontempt.
Of demons and sinners who tore and fuss'd
Over the land
For anyone keeping track of my 365 day writing journey, I would like to say that I have, in fact, written my entries for the past few days; however, the two entries ended up becoming very personal for me (specifically about Asexuality), and I would rather not post them unless it is requested of me.
That is all. I will continue with regular entries tomorrow.
Hey guys, I realize that very few will read this, and those who are following me have no reason at all to actually believe I will stay here for any length of time, but I would like to say something that might seem a bit odd.
As some of you might know, I am a junior Physics Major, specifically studying biophysics as it pertains to neurology (sometimes referred to as Neurophysics). I am also working on an important business venture right now that might turn into a future profession--if all goes well, that is. That being said, I have also decided to allot a few hours a day to writing. This means I have to get up awfully early (4-ish) every day,