Photography Part 1

Okay, so i've taken an interest in photography, and i thought that i'd start with taking a few pictures of where i live. I've been taking A LOT of hikes (around 10 miles week), mostly around this place called grandfather mountain, where all but one of these pictures are from. Not to boast or anything, but i think that i live in one of the best places on earth. There is practically no crime, only two towns (one is no more than a village, but ill see if i can get some pictures of that too) and this. Only downside is the sixty-seventy Mph (around 75-90? Kph for some of you)
I took all of these myself *hugs himself* im so proud :D







1. This is taken atop Rough ridge, and is looking south along the NC mountain range
2. here you can see the Viaduct, though its taken sideways..you gonna have to crane you neck a bit sorry :)
3. Bass Lake, a peaceful little place on the parkway that not alot of people visit, unlike Price park/lake.
4. Cattowwa Peak, highest point on the mountain, at 5,200 something feet. I dunno how that translates into meters..i think around 2 km, maybe 1.5?
5. my new deck. has a pretty good view, but the picture isn't taken at that angle. Its in little hollow in the mountains, so we get some pretty bad winds in the winter.

The New Story Part 2

Before i go in to this, i need some names for the story. So, if you have a sudden urge to comment, please give me some ideas.

June 5th, 2014
This nightmare started last week. It was supposed to be a normal checkup, but they did test me for Zombie Syndrome because of the recent outbreak in Charlotte. Guess what? Yep, i tested positive, you want a cookie or somethin? Its kinda etched in my brain at the moment, but that's kinda obvious, isn't it?

I remember that i was sitting in a kind of chair, those white ones that always smell of some cleaning detergent and never have even a spot of dirt on them. I guess you could say that for the whole room, too, as i quickly found out after trying to find patterns in the ceiling tiles for the last..hour, hour and a half? Not important i guess, so lets just say that i was really, really bored.
I remember that Dr. Cleanman (im serious) had pulled my mother out into the hall, and i had quickly found that the walls kept any noise from outside safely reduced to muffled whispers. So, when my 'mother' came in with red spots around her eyes, i quickly came to two conclusions:
1. Things were really, really bad (for me, that is)
2. my mother wasn't crying for me, but for her high-up public image. I cant remember the last time she cried for me.
with those two things down, i cant really say that i was surprised that i had Zombie Syndrome. Upset, needless to say (im not going to go into the details), but I decided to tune out my mothers sobs 9again, not directed towards me) and Dr. Cleanman's professionally uncaring diagnostic of how i would slowly, slowly loose my mind over the next three weeks.

Things just went downhill from there

A new story

okay, so i finished The War of the Worlds, and i thought of a good story idea. only a matter of time before i (undoubtedly) ditch it, but here goes my first one:

BTW they're put into a kind of journal format, through the account of a teenager (16?) who has just contracted a disease that, after a few weeks, transforms them into mindless zombies-mutant things. This girl, Suzie (NOT my actual girlfriend's name, if Kayla is reading this) knows she has the disease, and knows that she will undoubtedly "die" after a few weeks. In the mean time, she is treated as a social outcast, and as her entire life abandons her,(family, friends, boyfriend)she is forced to find something in life worth hanging on to. And yes, it is a girl. I write in a first-person diary of a girl, who probably is thinking thoughts nothing like the thoughts of other girls. but I'm a guy, so You guys can deal :P

AND my town is not called Brecksville, and i do not live near Cleavland. I changed the location for obvious reasons.

June 4th, 2014

Im dead. Not literally, of course, but i might as well be. You see, weird inanimate bundle of pages wrapped within two loosely bound sheets of leather that im talking to like it is an actual person, im diagnosed with something called Acronopsis, AKA Zombie Syndrome, that will turn me in to some kind of homicidal mutant that hunts for people's brains and eats em. No, I'm serious, these zombies are actual cannibals. Or should i say, WE zombies, seeing that im just as good as one of them now. And your probably wondering, why dont i just shoot myself and get it over with, and that would be fine and great with me, aside from two reasons:
1. I probably wouldn't have the guts to put a gun to my own head
and
2. The government took every weapon-like object aside from plastic butter knifes from the general population to limit the amount of harmful objects the zombies can get their hands on.
So, unless i want to rip the guns of a blackwatch soldier (not gonna happen) im stuck with nothing sharper than a Sharpe (huh, huh) to commit suicide with. So, tough.

My oh-so-loving family tried to put me in a kind of asylum to, quote, re-connect with myself. For you retards out there, that's the friendly way of saying "we don't want our daughter to be a brain-eating mutant thing, so we're just going to ignore it and send her off to a nice little place where they can put her in a tiny little enclosed space with hundreds of teens rapidly loosing their minds. And they're is also the slight chance that some bald scientist guy will come in and dissect her, so maybe we can go around saying our daughter was sliced in half, and that way she contributed to the overall cure of mankind. Have fun darling!"
And then they moved
I, of course, refused to sign the pamphlet that put me in that oh-so-happy place to contribute to the "survival of mankind". Now i kinda wished that i had, seeing that it could give me the slightest chance to die before i was completely consumed.
tough

Rage and Despair

okay, so i've been writing more on The Last Days, but it pretty much is a completely different story. here's the run-down so far:

The book takes place in a near-future earth, maybe 50 years in the future. It follows a girl who wakes up on a deserted street with no memories of her past when she is around 10. six years later, now running under the name of ghost, she finds that she is actually a member of a corrupt dictatorship organization thing, who erased her memory and transferred her mind into the mind of a ten-year old girl so that no one would find her after she ran away from this "Union". So, here's one of my favorite parts i've written:

Half a day had passed since I witnessed the murder, the sun has now set. I can still see the astonished face of Fredrick every time i close my eyes, and every time my heart accelerates with fear and anger. I move faster, faster then i ever had on the air board, praying for the nightmare to be lost behind me in the rushing wind. Yet still i wonder: am i Tanya, am i howling inside for the death of Fredrick? Yet i shake my head, chasing the despairing thoughts away from my mind. I am Ghost, I never new the man. Of course i cannot feel the pain Tanya would feel, the grief that she would have endured. Yet this only makes me more wounded, and the tears still swell from within my chest at the face of anguish as Fredrick's former love stabbed him through the heart...as I stabbed him through the heart.

It seems, to my imagination, that every path i have boarded, every person i have ever spoken to, holds a part of me. I have become worn, tired, dispersed. If i am to end my suffering, I must draw together my distant parts, selfishly, protectively. No matter what may occur, I must wrap all my sorrows inside, if i am to become Diamond hard. Impossible to wound, incapable of tears.
Stretching my arms high above my head, i inhale, bringing back the echos of the past, bringing them within the cold confines of my being. Past the torn fencing, in the graffiti-covered parks, they hear me. My scattered selves. They rise like the undead, given the chance of life again, and eagerly seek the call. All that i was, all that i once cast aside, comes back to me now, for i am wounded and must heal myself, must become strong once more. Even those attachments i once cared for- Mark, Athena, Nathan, Gabriell, they too must be wrapped within my cold, hard form. Feeling the loss, but determined to survive, i inhale a third time.

There are no longer any exposed parts of my being to harm me, to harm the ones i love. For i am, and will always be Ghost, and forever must i continue onward.

All is still, and yet i quiver with energy. With my eyes closed in concentration, i channel the vibrancy of my life force into my heart. Only six year of existence, but so much vitality. Denser now, my weaknesses fall into the core of my being. Pride goes first, followed by innocence. Love is harder to force down, but eventually i am left only the few motions needed to win this war, the war that rages both in the world around me and within my heart. I am left with two: Rage and Despair. Rage has a silver breastplate beneath her gown, she carries a sword and a crown of silent screams apon her head. Despair is veiled; in her hand she holds a mirror, the brooch of her cape is an opalescent lily. They frighten me, but i let them closer, they lift their arms and embrace me.
Oh, Mercy! they are fire and ice. I blaze and burn, my soul is slowly torn through and through. We cling tighter, and my suffering continues throughout the night. All nights must end, i tell myself. And so it does, with the light of dawn, banishing the creatures of my own creation, my own will. Within the heart of the sun lies the bane and salvation of man, the only thing that keeps us going through the darkness of our lives. And, with Rage and despair's departure, i am purged. With a startling realization, i find that the victory to this endless fight lies not within darkness, but with light.

I turn my board and dive into the light of the sun, hope in my steed.

We are all inventors, each sailing out on a voyage of discovery, guided each by a private chart, of which there is no duplicate. The world is all gates, all opportunities.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

>im not going to be able to post this week, so ill just put this song up for ya. Its by U2, a band which is nothing short of amazing. They're part of a world wide campaign called the one, and use the money they get to help the poor ect. Their a really political band, but in a good way..against oppression and all.
ill post more later

Pride (In The Name Of Love) lyrics - U2 lyrics

Pride (In The Name Of Love) Video - U2 Music Videos

Music Videos by VideoCure

btw i know that the video isn't that great, but the lyrics are what its here for

What some wish for...

A little "be careful what you wish for" story. Just to clarify, i have nothing against lawyers, their just fun to poke fun at. This one is pretty weak, but i need to put something up so..


Stephen Kline was a respectable man living in the suburbs of Boston. Having graduated top of his class from law school, and with a prosperous future with the Boston Law, he was also plagued with many less flattering traits that plagued many lawyers of his time: greed, treachery, and a firm hand in the underground market all kept him as a focus in his job. And all of these flaws would lead Kline to his ultimate demise, which began on a fateful road during typical Monday afternoon as he was walking back from a particularly grueling day at the office. As he strolled past a common gypsy beggar, he was startled with a sudden tug at his leg. Looking down, he found the beggar clawing at his feet, begging for change. “Please sir, just enough to by me some food, my children are starving!” Glancing down at the empty jar, he shrugged and dropped a five dollar bill into her outstretched hands. Yet, even as he made a move to walk away, he found that the pitiful pile of rags was still clinging to his pants leg. With tears in her eyes, she brought her gaze to stare right below his nose, and cried hoarsely:
“Thank you, sir, your charity shall be greatly rewarded!”
She brought her eyes up, and Kline hesitantly, after a few seconds of silence, ventured further with a casual
“Huh?”
The woman, her long nails digging into his arms, clawed her way to her feet. “I will grant you three wishes, and no matter what you say, it will be granted to you”.
Kline, clearly questioning the sanity of this woman, ventured farther with another casual “Huh?”
“Go on, anything you want, it shall be granted”. Was Kline imagining the faintly reddish glow in the woman’s eyes?
Well, if it worked, he would never have to work again. If I didn’t, no harm done, right? “Okay…I guess, for starters, I would like a trillion dollars.
The woman seemed to be considering this, then “go on”
“I would like myself to be envied by everyone for my beauty”
“done”
He thought for a moment, then “I’d like to live forever”
“You Sure?”
“Yes”


6:30 A.M, the next day

Kline awoke the next morning in a daze, having stayed up all night doing paperwork. Practically crawling to the bathroom, he picked up his razor and began to shave, not really focusing on his image in the mirror. After nicking himself, however, he glanced up only to see and alien face staring back at him. What stood before him in the mirror was undoubtedly beautiful, but somehow…predatorial, as if he was a kind of vampire. He ran to the computer, to find, to his great enlightment, that exactly 1 trillion dollars had been transferred into his bank account. Practically skipping with glee, he hurriedly got ready and ran out the door.

Kline walked up to the newsstand, the newsboy completely rapped up in his gaming magazine. Grabbing a paper, he slapped down a five dollar bill. Without looking up, the newsboy said “that would be 500...yen, sir”.
“Yen??”
Flipping a page in his game informer, he replied “yeah, the U.S dollar dropped hugely over night…government’s using yen now.” He glanced up, then started backing away from the desk slowly. “What are you, anyways?” In a daze, Kline simply got up and left, emerging himself in the shadows of the alleyways.

3 thousand years later

The U.S government hadn’t been too happy with him, he reflected as his stomach gave another painful jerk, trying to digest itself but to no avail. Having found him in possession of trillions of stolen U.S dollars, and put of by his unearthly looks, they locked him up in a cell to rot until they found a way to deal with him. But nuclear war decades later changed all of that, and he had simply curled up and waited for the sun to supernova, then to float aimlessly through space through endless darkness and cold, possibly finding himself on another life-bearing planet. And even then, could his body keep going even after the universe ripped itself apart?

He would think the same thing, over and over, for the rest of eternity.

School is out

Yeah, I know that i haven't been writing as much as i want, but I've been spending the last few days of school hanging out with friends that i wont see over the summer. However, now that school is (finally) over, i think i can get back to writing...

As far as my short stories go, i have been writing them..just that i can find anything that's good. I've written around 3-4 stories. then when i look over them i just delete it all.. Probably have one in this week.

If you want some good stories though, my sister Kayla is really good..i mean REALLY good. You can find her at Kaylas Blog Site.blogspot.com