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Write, or not write?


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10 replies to this topic

Poll: Do you want me to (6 member(s) have cast votes)

Do you want me to

  1. continue story A? (0 votes [0.00%])

    Percentage of vote: 0.00%

  2. continue story B? (0 votes [0.00%])

    Percentage of vote: 0.00%

  3. continue story C? (1 votes [33.33%])

    Percentage of vote: 33.33%

  4. all of them? (2 votes [66.67%])

    Percentage of vote: 66.67%

  5. none? (0 votes [0.00%])

    Percentage of vote: 0.00%

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#1
Dirk

Dirk

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Story A:

<Dirk> "the one who didn't write. walking along streets with names of people who once were someone, he dreamed about being one of those streets once. being inspiration to the people who would marvel at the flowers near the benches, or to look what was going to happen to that old abandoned building on the other end of the street."
<Mattom> I sthat yours?
<Dirk> "mightbe that dream will come true once, but not today, because today i'm walking."
<Dirk> i just made that up in the 3 minutes we're talking.
<Dirk> but i'm not a writer.
<Mattom> You should get through that full story. The first part is catchy.
<Mattom> Go for it.
~
<Dirk> and i don't stop with starting things.
~

Story B:

<Dirk> try a story without names. just blank people with personalities, but no names.
<Dirk> "the girl from the other side of town"
<Dirk> never seen her, never talked to her, but ever in a daydream she looks at me with eyes full of things i can't imagine"
<Mattom> Dammit, get writing Dirk!
<Dirk> sheesh... what if i did? what if i became good at it?
<Dirk> and i never get further than the first paragraph.
~

<Mattom> I think you might have a future in a story Dirk, Why don't you try and write it?
<Dirk> i might...
<Dirk> but it's a bit odd for an engeneer to excel in writing just because he gives it a go.
<Mattom> I think you should
<Baby-Ash> I should write some more but ehh I havent gotten my courage up yet
<Mattom> And tonight, especially, you seem to be chock full of good ideas and catchy sentences that drift along just dandy.
<Mattom> Get writing.
<Mattom> You all.
<Mattom> get to it.
<Mattom> I need a drink, or something .like that.
<Dirk> i didn't even use the backspace button.
<Mattom> A fat joint.
<Mattom> But I'm all out of ganja.
<Mattom> You see, Dirk? A must-write urge flows through your veins, but your bllod has been colded-out for too long for you to notice.
<Mattom> Some massive story-typing will get the old juices flowing again and the tale shall be told!!!!
<Dirk> wrote Federico.
<Dirk> your inspirational glands are not yet dried up ;)
<Mattom> I hope they're not. But at this particular moment... they're in battle
<Baby-Ash> I need to go let someone read my poems maybe get another published...
<Mattom> Only described by a graphic I was working on yesterday...
<Mattom> which reminds me....

Story C:

Something comepletely different.
Unauthorized Copying is not only forbidden, but will prey upon your conscience, spoil your sleep, destroy your complexion, and eventually will wind up turning you into the kind of person who drinks methylated spirits out of a bottle hidden in a brown paper bag, and who lives under bridges, burps noxiously, and prays day and night for release from the unsupportable burden their life has become. We thought you'd appreciate the warning.
Originally from a Neil Gaiman cd, so i might suffer from all the things mentioned above.

#2
Mattom

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Write now, dammit!







PH34R DAH NEENJAH!!!11 :ph34r:
I love mankind, it's people I can't stand.
[URL]YOU CAN'T UNDERSTAND THIS WAR

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#3
Mattom

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Well???
Did you finish it???????
I love mankind, it's people I can't stand.
[URL]YOU CAN'T UNDERSTAND THIS WAR

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#4
Dirk

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Helpless.

Once in a while when i walk down some streets i see people walking the other way.
I do wonder who they are and what they do for a living,what would their life be like? I’m sure it isn’t the same as mine, because they are going into another direction than i am.
Come to that, even the people who are on my side of the street and walking into the same direction see a different horizon.

Whoose life is it that i’m living?

It isn’t the life of the couple overthere on the bench who seem to be talking about a little thing that happened today. Neither is it the old woman who tries to cross the street. But by being a little bit of a mindless helping hand, i’d say it doesn’t matter much in a life when you walk up to somene and ask if you can be of any assistance.

So I’ll walk up to the old woman and ask if she needs any help.
The reply is odd in my ears.
“No thank you young man, i’ve been able to do without help in my entire life and i’m notgoing to give into a habit of being helped, before you know, i’m really old. Other people help you into the grave you knew that? Once they start, they won’t stop helping you till you’re dead. I’l get across that street boy, but thanks for offering, you’re a good one.�

I walk on and don’t look back to see if she gets safe to the other side.

Can help be bad? Is it true what she said about helping people into their grave? I certainly hope not, becuase people who refuse help would end up earlier in there, isn’t it? But how did she get so old then?

I decide to walk back and see if i can find her again to ask here those things. She might know the answers because she obviously knew what to tell me.

The traffic got busier and there are more people in the streets as well, but some bit away on the other side i can see her. Wrestling myself trough the bigger crowd of people (Where do they come from anyway? It used to be so quiet a cuople of minutes ago) i get to the edge of the street.

If i want to ask her, i should cross the driving lanes to get to the other side.
I take a glance left and right and dart to the other side, missing a car that is in a hurry by a fraction of what might have been something important.
When i’m on the other side, the people seem to move a little erratic and around the old woman, and they bump into me and look at me. It seems that they want to tell me without words that i’m on the wrong side, and in their way.

Finally i reach the old woman and tap her on the shoulder to get her attention. She looks around and asks me what i want.
I try to talk but no sounds comes out. I start to panic a little, and the people around me seem to notice, because they stop talking and moving.
The woman puts her hand on my shoulder and pushes a little bit down and urges me to sit down, and that is what i do.
The people around us are still coming closer, and some ask if i need ny help. The old woman seems to ignore the questions and i can’t answer them. Suddenly i feel a hand that isn’t mine and neither is hers on my back and people are kneeling around me and start to drag, push and pull. I try to resist, but there are too many.

“Help, we need help, he’s not well!�

More people get near and start pushing to see what is happening, and i’m in the center.
The woman seems to have her own space and isn’t bothered by the ones around her.
Suddenly she tells one of the people who are closest to me that i don’t need any help anymore.
I start to get really scared now. No help?

I see her moving her lips into what might be a word or a sentence.

"I’m Too Late..."

I listen when she sais it again.

"I’m Teleute…"

Then it gets all dark around me, and all i hear is Teleute.
Unauthorized Copying is not only forbidden, but will prey upon your conscience, spoil your sleep, destroy your complexion, and eventually will wind up turning you into the kind of person who drinks methylated spirits out of a bottle hidden in a brown paper bag, and who lives under bridges, burps noxiously, and prays day and night for release from the unsupportable burden their life has become. We thought you'd appreciate the warning.
Originally from a Neil Gaiman cd, so i might suffer from all the things mentioned above.

#5
Mattom

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This was very good.
Why I hadn't seen any of your writing before is beyond me.
The starter, however, is a bit slow, but it picks up greatly about the middle of the text.
Very good work Mister Marteen. :ph34r:
I love mankind, it's people I can't stand.
[URL]YOU CAN'T UNDERSTAND THIS WAR

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#6
Dirk

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The day you realize when your dreams come true,
that those are the broken ones.
Then is the day you see that the world is just what it is,
a lump of clay that is formed into something else with ease,
but never holding the shape you want it to have.

All you see is just a waste of time in a broken window.

Edited by Dirk, 20 January 2006 - 05:53 PM.

Unauthorized Copying is not only forbidden, but will prey upon your conscience, spoil your sleep, destroy your complexion, and eventually will wind up turning you into the kind of person who drinks methylated spirits out of a bottle hidden in a brown paper bag, and who lives under bridges, burps noxiously, and prays day and night for release from the unsupportable burden their life has become. We thought you'd appreciate the warning.
Originally from a Neil Gaiman cd, so i might suffer from all the things mentioned above.

#7
Chattur'gha

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Whoa... *kicks a rock pathetically* I thought I was a good writer, I am humbled.
You could probably write a book or something effortlessly.

PH34R DAH WYYZYRD! :wizard:

Edited by Chattur'gha, 31 January 2006 - 02:03 PM.

Sint mihi dei acherontis propitii, valeat numen triplex Jehovae, ignei areii, aquantani spiritus salvete: orientis princeps Belzebub, inferni ardentis monarcha et demigorgon, propitiamus vos, ut appareat, et surgat Mephostophilis...

quod tumeraris: per Jehovam, gehnnam, et consecratam aquam quam nunc spargo; signumque crucis quod nunc facio; et per vota nostra ipse nunc surgat nobis dicatus Mephostophils!!!
-The Summoning Satan Scene of Faust

What I have shown you is reality. What you remember, that is the illusion.
-Sephiroth



When you choose not to give in with all of your being that is when you truly transcend your humanity.
-Arucard


The Unspeakable
Yggdrasil
Beastmaster
The Great Sephiroth
Dark Messenger
The Unborn
Wolfen

#8
Dirk

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A better place?

Last time when i was in a bar i got in a little bit of a conversation with a man who could have walked away from a movie set or something. After introducing himself we had a little drink and things became a bit fuzzy around me.
Fading lights and a muttering sound of voices around me that i couldn't place, but the man seemed to be oblivious to my state, and kept talking. Somehow i was able to see and hear him as clear as can be possible.

He talked about a world where the right of the strongest wasn't the rule, and never had been a thing of importance. That world he described was more than a different place from ours. According to him we live in a hard mechanized world ruled by thought, sand and iron. For him it is a dead place, wihout the feeling, and emotion in everything that he was used to.

His world was a living place, where thought and strength were secondary to the one thing, Imagination. Even with the spinning lights and the fuzz in my head, i could clearly hear it was spoken with a capital "I", like he was talking about a physical thing, or even a god.

That world, it had a soul, it lived and had a heartbeat, Imagination ruled with a gentle hand, and there were no boundaries in it, with exception of a single rule "Do not harm others". Everyone there gladly obeyed that rule, it made sense and there was no reason to break it.

Music was a form of art that flowed trough everything as the blood of life, like the Imagination was the air breathed by everything. Sometimes there were people who were playing games where it came down to a challenge between creativity in all sorts and forms. The people there did like the artistic show offs made by the ones who mastered the light and sound. More often than not, there were no winners, and the competitors ended up playing the game in a very different way alltogether. Crowdpleasing was an art on itself.

Within all this moving and changing place, there was an island filled with silence. There were no rules, except the one that stated that there was no disturbance preferred. The ones who lived there where of the thoughtful kind, and enjoyed the silent place to develop great works of art.

There was no envy between the two places, and people were free to travel between the ports that were set up to link them together. For rest, some took the silent road, for inspiration they took the road of imagination.

At that time i hit the table with my head, and when i looked up, the bar was gone, and the man who had been talking to me, had changed form, or at least didn't look like i remembered him from earlier.

"I see that you have made the change as well?"

Confused i nodded, afraid that if i moved my head too quick, i would break the spell, or worse, that my head might fall off.

"We are in a place on the edge of what we know to be the end of imagination, and the end of intelligence as well. Some manage to get here, even less are capable of staying here for a time long enough to understand whats going on. You however are no different from then. You will sink back into your dream and return to the place where you came from. We have no use for you here."

Shocked i looked around and the man in front of me was gone, and the barkeep handed me a towel to whipe the beer from my face.

I'm not sure if this is real or not, is this world the real one, or the one where imagination is on the helm?
Unauthorized Copying is not only forbidden, but will prey upon your conscience, spoil your sleep, destroy your complexion, and eventually will wind up turning you into the kind of person who drinks methylated spirits out of a bottle hidden in a brown paper bag, and who lives under bridges, burps noxiously, and prays day and night for release from the unsupportable burden their life has become. We thought you'd appreciate the warning.
Originally from a Neil Gaiman cd, so i might suffer from all the things mentioned above.

#9
Dirk

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The Wise Man and the Fool.

The Wise man was minding his own business when he was disturbed by the Fool.

The Fool asked him if he was happy with his current state of mind, avoiding all mistakes and being a good exampple for everyone.

The fool however told the wise man that people need bad examples too, and wise people who are capable of pointing out the mistakes.

"I make mistakes so other people can learn from them, you point out my mistakes, so you don't have to make them, we all have our value, you as a ise man, and i as a fool. Without me as a fool, what would you give people as an example for what not to do?"

At that time, the Wise Man shook his head and told the Fool that he was just as wise as the Wise Man, but approached things from a different direction.

Together they shared points of view and agreed that most things are better to understand when looked at from all sides.

(and yes, this is another example of traffic jam inspiration)

Edited by Dirk, 08 February 2006 - 12:27 PM.

Unauthorized Copying is not only forbidden, but will prey upon your conscience, spoil your sleep, destroy your complexion, and eventually will wind up turning you into the kind of person who drinks methylated spirits out of a bottle hidden in a brown paper bag, and who lives under bridges, burps noxiously, and prays day and night for release from the unsupportable burden their life has become. We thought you'd appreciate the warning.
Originally from a Neil Gaiman cd, so i might suffer from all the things mentioned above.

#10
Mattom

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Politeness is always a good way to start in the ways of typing stories, we all make a best first impression when clean and well-dressed. I fear we shall read more of you and can't wait!



PH34R DAH NEENJ4H!!!!11 :ph34r:
I love mankind, it's people I can't stand.
[URL]YOU CAN'T UNDERSTAND THIS WAR

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#11
Dirk

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The Quiet of the Night.

Looking at things in the dark changes your way of seeing them.
You see things when there is light, but when there is no light, you will be shown the other side.
Sounds in the night are strange, and not as the ones in the day.
What causes it? I don't know, perhaps it's a strange thing deep in our bones, or just a thing we learned as a child even before the time we can remember.

The quiet of the night is caressing and loving you always, it never leaves and will be waiting for you to return into her embrace when you close your eyes.

She's an old love and she doesn't forget, but does forgive.

Don't watch, because it is no use in the night, just listen and feel with your heart to see what you need.

The night, possibly the most patient part of the day.
Unauthorized Copying is not only forbidden, but will prey upon your conscience, spoil your sleep, destroy your complexion, and eventually will wind up turning you into the kind of person who drinks methylated spirits out of a bottle hidden in a brown paper bag, and who lives under bridges, burps noxiously, and prays day and night for release from the unsupportable burden their life has become. We thought you'd appreciate the warning.
Originally from a Neil Gaiman cd, so i might suffer from all the things mentioned above.




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