Conversing

I want to write

Then write...?

But...I can't...

Oh? And why not?

Because...

Because...?

I don't know

Oh come now. You must have a reason

Um...I've been busy..?

That...is a blatant lie.

That's not true!

Hum. You spend more time texting than reading tropes, more time reading tropes than playing games, more time playing games than being on Facebook, more time on Facebook than doing your homework, and more time doing your homework than writing

So what am I doing now?

Writing...in the dark. You can't even see this!

Well. I like it.

You prefer writing in the pitch, unable to see a letter, to typing on a brightly lit computer screen?

I do believe so

Preposterous.

Do you even know what that means?

Well...erm..take out the pre...you have posterous...looks like posterior...

Which is exactly what you sound like, trying to help me this way

Prepostero-oh, damn it.

I'm so relieved to know I've been reduced to verbal slapstick

In the dark.

Oh, give it a rest. It's more fun this way.

If you say so. You're the one talking to himself.

Oh? What are you doing?

The same. But! You started it.

Another level down! We're really making, nay, crafting an elegantly picturesque contraction of the lower calf in the most definitely not incorrect facing, on the y-axis, that shall be sung of in the ballads of gallant troubadours, reenacted by all theatrical hopefuls, enshrined in the memorials of history's heroes, for all glistening eternity.

Don't you mean z..? Ugh. Cut with the purple. You're awful at it anyway.

Then what color should I write in?

Oh! That is a fun idea! Let's write in a rainbow of styles!

You mean make up arbitrary writing facades to go with our own preconceptions of what a color should mean

Well...when you put it that way, yes.

Sounds good. Tomorrow?

Second period?

Excellent

Doubly so. We already have purple.

Quite. Hm.

Hm?

Should we do Indigo?

Ringing Bells

Up there, on the very peak of the lowest hill, there lies a bell. Not a very special bell...looks rather dingy from some angles...but it gets the job done. What job you ask? You'll have to ring it.

Of course, surrounding the bell on the very peak of that lowest hill, are a few...guardians, so to speak. No I'm not going to explain them! What nerve...ruins the whole surprise, it does.

Oh yes, life-threatening obstacles are rather morale-lowering, I suppose...but that just makes it more worth it in the end, m'boy! ...Oh I never! I will not stuff it! Youth has no sense of drama these days...or maybe too much?

Just prepare yourself well. At least I warned you, spoiled little...Anyway, another word of advice. There's no rope on the bell, but bringing extra is the very last thing you should do. Why? Eh...well you'll have to do the job to find out.

Directions

"Crap..."

"What's wrong?"

"The compass..."

"Yeah...?"

"It's...uh..it broke."

"So?"

"Whaddya mean so!? We're out in the middle of a desert!"

"Oh? Then what's that tree doing there?"

"What tre-what the..?"

"Y'see? We're fine."

"I've still got the map...there's no forest on here..."

"You say something?"

"No...nothing.."

Hide and Seek

Can you find me?

C'mon, hurry up!

Keep looking!

I'd say you're getting warmer..but you aren't...

Don't give up!

Hehe, now you're warming up.

I'm hiding behind the moon.

Ensemble

As they sat wearily around the campfire, one noticed the silent monotony, and, feeling mischievous, quietly doused the fire.

Panic surged a couple of the friends, but the laughter accompanying the gasps quickly spread, and accurate guesses were made about the perpetrator. One moved to ignite the tinder again, but another, as if reading the former's thoughts, cut him off.

"Let's leave the fire. We're all done eating, right? Can't we just enjoy the evening?"

"But..."

"Aww, scared of the dark now, are we?"

"Haha, it's not like anything will attack us way out here."

"I guess so..."

"There now...isn't this a lovely night?"

"Hmph.."

...

"Mm....what..do you all see?"

"Nothing! Haha! Can't even see my own feet."

"The graves of my enemies, rotting in the darkness.."

"An ambush.."

"..the moon is lovely tonight."

"Hmm.."

"Well, what about you?"

"Heh..our dreams..seem to be in reach."

"Didn't need you to tell us that!"

"As you wish.."

...

"What was that..!?"

Catches

Somewhere in the world, they say, there's a quill pen that never runs dry, and when written with, provides its holder with an endless stream of ideas.


























The catch? Whaddya mean catch? I'm just spreading the word. No one in their right mind would want a piece of crap like that. Where's the fun in that?

A Dream

Everyone dreams whilst they slumber. While most lHook at dreams as a wonderful escape from reality, there is one place you never want to escape to.

It will never be the first. It will only appear in the middle of dreams, interrupting your bliss with a shock, but never enouEgh to wake you up...no matter how much you may wish it.

It does not matter what you were previously dreamSing of, or who you were, or even what color it was. You will find yourself as a child, with naught but the clothes on your back and a tricycle. A creaky little red tricycle. The creaking will be the first thing you notice about the dream, because it is the only sound you wCill ever, ever hear. You will be in a large field, strewn with tall hedge columns, each exactly the same distance apart, in perfect rows. Everyone wanders through this field. Even the ones who would stand are iOnexplicably...drawn in.

And then you will see him.

He will do notMhing. Nothing, but stare. An old man, dressed in a crisp black suit, derby hat, and a red bow tie, holding a silver-topped cane with both hands. He will stare. Not a single human emotion will cross his fIace. He will simply stare. Straight into your heart. With eyes of living flame. And you will be but as ice before his eternal gaze.

You will wish to run, run away from his eyes. TNhis is where the struggle begins. The man will never budge from his stance, but nor shall you.

But you must.

You musGt.



Will the man ever move? I can't say. I got out of there. But whenever I hear of missing person cases, I remember.

I remember the silver-topped cane underneath my pillow when I woke from that one dream

.

Navigational Procedures

Take out your map.

See that big ol' X right there?

Yep.

That's where you're not going.

Wind

The wind's at your back, mate. That's all ye need, in'nit?

All ye need t' take yer life back from the depths, and sail yer own ship, off into the horizon. Ye've got yer crew, ye've got yer supplies, ye've got yer bloody ship, bless 'er heart, and ye've even got the rum. Now, have ye the guts? Have ye the fire in yer belly? The gall to go where yer fear will never guide ye?

The helm is yer's, boy. Ye've sat in the cabin long enough. 's time to take command o' yer own vessel.

Ye shan't follow the wind. The wind's followin' you, Captain.

Falling Down A Black Hole

"Oh, dearie me but I seem to be falling...can't tell where or from whence but at this rate I suppose I shall be quite dead by the time I hit the bottom.

Can't see a blasted thing, not even myself. Just dark and dark...falling and falling...haha it's a wonder I haven't fallen asleep in this dreariness. Suppose it would be less painful that way, hm?

Phoo, maybe if there was something to do, I'd do more than simply talk to myself. Nope, nope...nothing to do but fall. Wish I would. At least a dream would be something to do.

Do do do....I could sing! Sing a song...la la...sing a song about falling! Falling in a black hole! Blacker than the black of coal! In the earth just like a mole! Falling down an endless hole~!

That got old rather fast...Hm, I wonder if it's possible to swim in the air...? Hmph I shan't try. Hitting a wall is more pain than I like. I could always dive though...down into my grave! Ha!

...Ooh this is no fun. My heart isn't even racing anymore. It feels like I've been here for hours...days...Death would relieve the tedium of thi-Oomph!

Ooooh...the bottom? How in God's name am I still alive? Hm...maybe I already am dead, and a hole is my personal hell...? A hole...blast it I'll just feel around for the wall at least...something to do..do...oh!

A ladder? How remarkable...guess I'd better start climbing then."

Galactic Doors Slamming - Can You Hear Them?

"Oh, hey there. Nice of you to drop in...*chuckle*..."

*you look up at the trap door you just fell through*

"Ah...you're one of those. Bother, I do hate to explain things...but I suppose that's what I'm here for, eh? Come now, look sharp man. You see these two doors? Yes...'course you do."

*more looking, more looking...the room feels smaller somehow...*

"...No, not the ceiling, idiot. You can only go forward from here. So, which will it be? Door Number One or Door Number Two? Door Number B or Door Number A? Door Number Heads or Door Number Tails? Door Number This or Door Number That? Door Number Minie or Door Number Eenie? Door Number Right or Door Number Left? Door Number Death or Door Number Life? Heh...Door Number...what are you sitting there staring at me for, dummy? That wall isn't going to slow down just because you're in the way. Don't worry about me, I've always been able to manage when the traffic decides to be slow."

*you rise, still making your decision, but becoming understandably hastened in the undertaking*

"Oh yeah. Leave your sword here."

The Forest Maze

Darkness, then twilight.

You see a wall of foliage before you. A grand wall of frightening proportions, so great that the sunset sky is shadowed by its sheer height. You, however, are not so taken aback by your new, grandiose surroundings to notice that you are alone. Or that there is another wall behind you. And to a side.

Without hesitation, you take a step forward. After all, just sitting there won't solve anything. There don't seem to be any instant-death traps set in the vines, so off you go, not pausing to wonder how you got there to begin with.

Night has fallen, and the walls of your prison begin to glow somehow, just enough for you to see them clearly with the light of a full moon. An eerie mist flows along the ground, swirling around your feet. Thankfully, the hedges keep any wind off, but you can't help but shiver as you sit in the soil after wandering for so very long. The silence of the night, rather than soothe, only further unnerves you. As you gaze up at the lack of stars, something dawns on you. The silence, the solitude...Other than the hedges, not a single living being can be found. Not just other people, but nothing. The word alone fully crashes down upon you as you fall back.

The mist crawls over your body, pulling you down ever so slightly. You try to close your eyes, desiring only to fall into a deep sleep...sleep...but, there is a light that pierces the misty veil. Irritated, you quickly sit up and stare at the source of the intrusion...which seems to be the moon, of all things. Funny, you don't remember it being so bright earlier...remember...ing someone. There's someone you have to get back to...that's right...Silly you. You don't have time to be lost in some maze. The mist dissipates as you rise. As you regain your bearings, you notice a black speck on the moon, but easily dismiss it, as escape is the priority. However, the growing shadow over your own is about to convince you otherwise, when something nails you squarely on the head.

Of course, nothing was going to stop you from getting out of here now, but your newfound lump insisted on you being realistic. Quickly deciding to ponder the maze after you investigate your assailant, you cautiously turn around, only to...

...*you got a flamethrower*

Story Time

"Welcome back, class. I hope you all had a wonderful break."

"Thank you, Teacher."

"Yes, well, I'm sure all of you are dying to talk about what you all spent that refreshing reprieve doing and not doing, but before we do anything useful...it's story time!"

"Yay!"

"Now now, calm down. This is the story of a man. A man who, as a boy, had the most wonderful upbringing. You see, his parents had paid attention to their own parents, and still believed in the proper standards that had been set way back in those olden days. It's really a shame that so few families still have such moral discipline...but silly Teacher could lose her job for telling you all such things! Anyway, no one around could claim to be the nice guy that this man was, such did he believe in doing the right thing. His friends, in particular, remembered him for this.

'Hey, can I borrow your homework? Nah, don't worry; Teach'll never catch me! You're always top of the class anyway, man! No sweat.'

'Man, check that girl out! Think I'll ask her out for a few drinks. What? You two've been going out for a couple of weeks now? C'mon man, nice guys like you always get the babes. Just take a dive for me this once, k? I'll make it up to ya, promise!'

'The boss is making his rounds. Please man, I need that promotion. I know Boss's had his eye on you...but I gotta feed my wife and kids, y'know? What...never mentioned the wedding? Slip o' the tongue, buddy. Haha, sorry.'

And so more years passed, in much the same manner. The man, slowly but surely, began to learn from his mistakes, and changes came about in his life. Positive changes, to be sure. Success. Fame. He got it all. At a cost, to be sure, but who has time for such sentiments? This man had it made. And so he lived out the rest of his days, forgetting the chains of his past, and only looking out for whom he cared most.

I hope you all see the moral of this story. The Board has been very clear about getting a point like this across...yes, Jimmy? A question?"

"Yes, Teacher...about the ending of the story..."

"Yes, go on. Don't take too long now. What do you think?"

"Screw that."

The Egg or the Chicken...?

It was a bright, sunny day. The farm animals couldn't have been happier, lazing about, going about their farm animal lives. The chicken, however, could not help but be discontent. He had heard the farmer sharing a riddle with his wife. The humans both got a good laugh out of it, and the matter was soon forgotten, lost in the mist of human worry. But for the chicken, this was no simple riddle. This was a question that may provide an answer towards his existence. As a result, he snuck out of the coop that very night, intent on solving the mystery that had plagued him throughout the day. There was only one egg left, so he would have to use extreme caution in his interrogation. The chicken entered the shed where farm animal spoils were kept and counted his chicken blessings that the room was deserted. Except for the egg.

The chicken was nervous, more nervous than he could ever remember being before (which wasn't a very long span regardless), but pressed onward, sweating his chicken sweat all the while. After hours of tortured marching, the chicken finally made it across the room, and opened his beak to ask the fateful question...

"Hold it right there, bub! Don' even think about opening that cluck-box o' yours."

The chicken was so startled, he felt sure he would have laid an egg himself, if he had been capable.

"Yeah, that's right. I know exactly what ya were gonna ask. Lemme tell ya somethin' right now: forget about it."

The chicken was becoming quite offended with this turn of events. He was supposed to be the intimidating one. He was the one who had the idea. After all, he came first.

"Oh don't go spewing your baloney to me, bub."

This was getting decidedly off-beat.

"Lemme ask ya, what difference does the silly mess make? The egg hatched, leading to the chicken. Or...the chicken laid the egg. There's the possibilities. Who cares how it happened? Will your chicken kibbles start tasting better once you know? You just wasted a wonderful day wondering about a wonder that, quite honestly, is wonderfully pointless. Don't wanna waste that chicken brain o' yours? That's fine, fine. Try looking around you then. An egg. A life yet to be lived. Endless possibility, right there, waiting to happen. Doesn't that boggle your chicken mind? Look at yourself. A life in progress. Experiences that have happened, are happening, and still waiting to happen. A work of art in progress, really. Your life is begging to be lived, boy. Get your chicken butt out there and get to it. And keep thinking about that egg. About what will happen. Possibility."

The chicken smiled a lot more after that. Kept away from eggs though.

Part Two? I dunno...chapter titles are silly

The dreams...they were always so...bright...alive...different...

When she was awake, it was dark...except for the circles...

Everyone said she couldn't see, but she saw the world through those circles...but her dreams...they were...different...She couldn't find the right words to talk about it, so she didn't. Her parents probably wouldn't understand anyway...right? Wake time was always so dark and familiar...but sleep time...if they were open, she was sure her eyes would scream from the bright...but in a good way...it was odd...but she loved to dream...and she never forgot them. Not a one.

Like the circles, the dreams were all different kinds. Some were light, others were still dark. Almost completely dark but for tiny dots...more than she could ever count...but it was soothing in a way. Not like the running dreams...She never knew what she was running from, but she could never stop. Those were...her body was soaking by the time she would wake up...

But sometimes, about once in a blue moon, she would just dream of floating...being in water without the wetness...those were her favorite. She was floating when it happened.

"Wha-...why is everything getting so dark? It's not morning..."

"Choose."

"Choose..? Choose what?"

"Observe, and choose."

"Choose between those?
Ok...um...Papa always says bigger things are better so...besides, it's so much bigger than the other on-AHH! That sound...! That wailing...! That laughter...that sick laughter...My ears are burning...! ...Now it sounds like...someone...crying...despair...I can feel...the hatred...this...is death...No...No, I want the other ball! Take me away from this...please...please...No, not more laughter! ...Wait...this sounds like...a child...a child's laughter...of...joy...no, children...it sounds lovely...now cheering...now...life...love...Why is this...so much smaller than the other...?

"Have you chosen?"

"Yes, but-"

"Very well. Awaken, Rhia."

What...?

"Why did you do that?"

"...do what?"

"Don't smart off to me, boy!"

"I...don't have any idea what you're ranting about."

"Drop the stupid act. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Do I now?"

"Yes...it bloody well saved my life."

"So you burst in from nowhere, screaming to me? How grateful."

"Yes, that was unseemly. You have my apologies..."

"Accepted."

"Quite, quite. Ah...whatever happened to that salamander figurine you had? The one of porcelain?"

"That little thing? The story it has now...but alas, I sold it to a very deserving home."

"I see...pity. What about those diamonds...the ones that glow with a light of their own?"

"They're in better hands as well now. But is business the only reason you came?"

"No, I suppose not. Can't quite remember what the real reason was though."

"Haha, you seem to be growing senile."

"And you seem to be growing fickle. Last I was here, those items weren't for sale."

"Maybe not to you. You never needed them."

"Well of course. No one needs diamonds."

"No, not the diamonds...but what they represented to the person who now possesses them."

"What else can a diamond represent but wealth?"

"See, a person in your situation couldn't understand...would never need to understand."

"I don't know if I should take offense to that..."

"Are you happy?"

"Aren't you blunt? I suppose it took me a while...but yes, I believe I am."

"It took you a while?"

"Money makes fools of us all."

"How eloquent...but why did it take so long for you to realize this?"

"Dear boy, it just occurred to me."

"Hm?"

"You never answered my original question."

"Which was...?"

"Why did you do that?"

"Sigh...do what?"

"Kill me."

Steps

"I can make a difference by....no wait, scratch that. I WILL make a difference by...Wait, how can I make a difference? I'm just a naive child...No matter how grandiose my plans may turn out to be, who would lend their ear to a mere child...? An immature youth, completely unversed in the ways of this darkening world. A world delving deeper and deeper into an inescapable abyss...An abyss in which greed, envy, and pride reside. Three triplets whose charms have eternally ensnared the hearts of mortal men, who wreak havoc on the moral values of the world, who are only growing ever stronger...What is one child against the powers of such demons? We've been waltzing down a crumbling bridge, never once looking back into our ruinous wake. The sun shines on the path we chose not to take...the path that we started down...one step at a time...One step...after the other...If I just start with what I can do...maybe...no, not maybe. I will start with what I can do. And what I can do, right here and right now, is write. Write about what's wrong, write about what's right, write about what is dark, write about what is light. All I have to do is...believe in my writing, meager though it may be. For if one believes, it will become two, then three...All it takes is one. One mind. One voice. It can make a difference. It will make a difference. Just believe...yeah...that sounds about right."

-So wrote the young apprentice upon his very soul...

Some General Rules

1. We know nothing.

2. We know nothing of ourselves.

3. What we do know, we do not acknowledge.

4. What we do not know, we imagine as we please.

5. We know nothing of others.

6. What we do know, we choose to condemn.

7. What we do not know, we choose to ridicule.

8. We do not care.

9. We do not watch.

10. We do not listen.

11. We place ourselves before all.

12. We are trapped.

13. We refuse to believe any of them.

Monochrome Rainbows part 1

In a time beyond remembrance, a child was born with sightless eyes. The child's mother and the child's father lamented their daughter's eternal fall into darkness, and did everything in their power to try and bring even the smallest lantern within her gaze. To bring an inkling of color to those stark gray eyes. Nothing worked, but the child was content. Content because, quite honestly, she had no idea what they kept rambling on about.

She could see just fine.

She saw how the village elder was a lecher, how the scholars studied only how to act as though they studied, and most of all, how deathly afraid each and every one of them was. Afraid of the darkness they could never understand. Afraid of the darkness she couldn't hope to understand either, only because she understood it so well. None would admit it, but she knew all the same. They would cling to their fire like a starving wolf to its hard-earned prey. She had found her own lantern in time though, in her own way.

"Rhia, come away from that moon-cursed flower and do your chores!"

The Leaves...They're Changing

Winter...is it death..or is it life? Just...a beginning...it seems. Harsh winds promise trials like no other, yet within this darkness is a beacon, granting warmth to those who bathe in its light. Some would call it the most wonderful time of the year, but whether this attitude stems from honest good will or materialistic greed seems to be in a constant flux. While the outside is surrounded by a wreathe of ice, the inside serves only to draw us together. Color me blue.

Spring...certainly a time of life and refreshment. Those that hide from Winter's fury finally emerge to greet the sun...just as if this was the true beginning. Though cascading rains often alter the serene beauty, they wash all the grimy troubles away. It's a time of energy...of youth. Just trying to squeeze some fun into those busy work hours to lighten Atlas's load. A lovely splash of cool water to the face after a long winter's nap. Color me pink.

Summer...a time of fire. A time to burn passionately and dive headfirst into a new project. With such time on our hands, how can we not? Of course, the lazy days go hand in hand...the sleep days...the hot days...those darn dog days. Sometimes it just seems as if that raging energy has been put to bed early. It's a time of rest, of family, and of friends. Party central? Hardly, but exciting all the same. Color me green.

Autumn...one could call it a time of death...sheltered in a veil of blazing art. Time seems to slow in these calming months. Fire gives way to ice, and the passion begins to fade. The young look upon this time with disdain, as the return to responsibility beckons. The old...well, the young cannot speak for them, but a reversal would be somewhat sensible. Light begins to wane, the colors whither away, but this is no ending. Color me orange.

The cycle of life...never changed and never ending.