Was it sacrilegious to stab an angel with a cross? Perhaps it was, but Laetho could really care less. Gabriel was being an unbelievable douche and today was the day to put his foot down.
“Let me in Gabriel, or I swear to Almighty that I’ll make sure you get transferred to the basement!” Gabe was always like this, playing jokes on all the other angels and for some reason, he was STILL God’s favorite. Laetho had been working his wings off for eons and still had to shuffle scrolls to make ends meet. Life was never fair to anyone with a dipthong in their name, he thought. With a huff Laetho grabbed up his spilled scrolls and papers and elbowed his way past the nuisance angel.
"Hey bro, calm down. Where's the fire?" Gabe chortled. He loved Hell jokes. And he loved torturing Laetho. Today couldn't possibly go wrong.
Laetho had his arms full of new invoices and was having massive troubles opening the Almight Door. With one knee holding up the majority of the pile in his arms, he managed to grab hold of the knob, only to find that it was covered in....cherub sweat.
"UGH! GABRIEL!" he yelled. Laetho dumped his not so precious cargo on the floor and turned[whipped around] to face the hellacious angel. Gabe was just barely trying to hold back a full force laugh attack. His face was red, and he had a grin in his face that Laetho yearned to smack off. Just behind him on a stand was a jar of cherub sweat with the cap sitting askew atop it. If it were possibly for smoke to pour out of every orifice of Laetho in anger, it would be happening. That's when Gabe knew that he may have been tap dancing on this disgruntled angel's last nerve. He turned to make his hasty escape, but apparently when angels are pissed, they become a helluva lot quicker. He felt a strong hand on his collar, and a menacing growl in his ear. "I swear. If you ever do this again, I will *personally* see to it that you are given Hermes duty. You remember what happened to the last guy with that job, right?"
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
HEY GUYS!
So I'm very well aware that I haven't been on here in ages. Literally. A species surely has evolved since the last time I wrote anything interesting here. But worry not! I'm back, and I hope to be a more constant influence in your life!
So the thing is, college is back in session, and I find myself between 15 or 16 credits and working 8 hours a week, I just have too much time on my hands. And I love typing. ^_^ So you're going to get to see my new and exciting adventures in my sophomore year.
Right now, I'm looking to find a good plot for a NaNoWriMo novel in November. If you think of anything that might make for a good plot, leave a note below, ok? Good.
I think that's it for the updates. As always, let me know if there's anything you'd like to see from me. Peace outttt
Plot Idea:
It begins with you.
Every month you receive a letter from an unknown source. The handwriting is vaguely familiar, the shape of the envelope is always the same, and it is always sent second class - so that you are never quite sure which day it will arrive. You only know this: the envelope is a sign of failure as well as hope. Sometimes you open it straight away, sometimes you leave it for a day or two, but in the end you always open it. Inside there are two sheets of paper, both neatly folded, both inscribed with the same vaguely familiar hand. One confirms your failure, the other renews your hope, though there are only four words on each.
The first says: You have no child.
The second says: You have a child.
You tear the first message up, but its words have already gathered in a corner of your mind like dust, waiting for the wind to blow. The second message must be carried everywhere with you, for fear that its magic will dissipate should you deviate from devotion to its words. You know what these words imply because you have received the same letter month after month: you have a child, but you must find it first; and when you find it, you will not be allowed to play with it, hold it, feed it, or even touch it.
Outside, in the street of bright sunshine, all the other parents are playing with, holding, feeding and touching their children; and you ask each of them individually if they have seen your child. But they shake their heads one after the other and say, I'm sorry. Some even tell you to go away.
You look up. At the end of the street, in the shadow of a great, black cloud, an infant is standing, waving at you. You know it is yours, and you cry out with pleasure and run towards it with arms wide, silently thanking your magic slip of paper for delivering its promise. But at the end of the street, the wind is blowing, the cloud is darker, the air is colder, the infant is gone. In despair you search for a glimpse of it, and notice (with immense relief) that it is only a few yards ahead, at the corner of the next street. You also realise for the first time that it looks the way you always wanted your child to look, and is dressed in the clothes you always wanted your child to wear - and it is still waving, beckoning you forward. You run towards it again, but when you reach the corner it has disappeared once more.
This is the pattern of the first fortnight. To prove your devotion, you must chase the child, but when you approach it, it disappears. Some days you feel you can almost reach out and touch it; on others, it waves at you from so far away that you hardly recognise it. And all the while the cloud grows darker, the air colder, the wind stronger - until, at the end of two weeks, the sky breaks, releasing a hard, black rain.
For the next fortnight, you gradually lose hope. You do not see the infant again, but you follow its footprints in the mud, and you know that you will find it soon (perhaps around the next corner). Sometimes you even believe that you can hear its voice crying out for you (but it may be the wind or the rain, or just your imagination). Eventually, you wonder if the letter you received was a joke, if it was delivered to the wrong address, if you really understood what it said after all. You consider yourself useless, and unworthy of such a message. You bitterly resent the unknown source.
A month after receiving the envelope, you reach the end of the last street, worn out with worry. You see the child ahead of you, but it is lying face-down in the mud. You think, briefly, that you can see it breathing, and you are afraid to touch it in case you disturb its fragile existence. But you must touch it - and touching it, you discover that it is dead. You weep, and weep, and weep; and when the weeping is done, you open your eyes and the infant is gone. Only its small outline in the mud remains, and as you kneel there, tracing its shape, you know that even this faint trace will be washed away with the rain.
Though you can hardly move at first, you find the strength to rise and the momentum to return home. When you arrive at your front door, a letter is waiting on the step.
It is a sign of failure. It is a sign of hope.
So the thing is, college is back in session, and I find myself between 15 or 16 credits and working 8 hours a week, I just have too much time on my hands. And I love typing. ^_^ So you're going to get to see my new and exciting adventures in my sophomore year.
Right now, I'm looking to find a good plot for a NaNoWriMo novel in November. If you think of anything that might make for a good plot, leave a note below, ok? Good.
I think that's it for the updates. As always, let me know if there's anything you'd like to see from me. Peace outttt
Plot Idea:
It begins with you.
Every month you receive a letter from an unknown source. The handwriting is vaguely familiar, the shape of the envelope is always the same, and it is always sent second class - so that you are never quite sure which day it will arrive. You only know this: the envelope is a sign of failure as well as hope. Sometimes you open it straight away, sometimes you leave it for a day or two, but in the end you always open it. Inside there are two sheets of paper, both neatly folded, both inscribed with the same vaguely familiar hand. One confirms your failure, the other renews your hope, though there are only four words on each.
The first says: You have no child.
The second says: You have a child.
You tear the first message up, but its words have already gathered in a corner of your mind like dust, waiting for the wind to blow. The second message must be carried everywhere with you, for fear that its magic will dissipate should you deviate from devotion to its words. You know what these words imply because you have received the same letter month after month: you have a child, but you must find it first; and when you find it, you will not be allowed to play with it, hold it, feed it, or even touch it.
Outside, in the street of bright sunshine, all the other parents are playing with, holding, feeding and touching their children; and you ask each of them individually if they have seen your child. But they shake their heads one after the other and say, I'm sorry. Some even tell you to go away.
You look up. At the end of the street, in the shadow of a great, black cloud, an infant is standing, waving at you. You know it is yours, and you cry out with pleasure and run towards it with arms wide, silently thanking your magic slip of paper for delivering its promise. But at the end of the street, the wind is blowing, the cloud is darker, the air is colder, the infant is gone. In despair you search for a glimpse of it, and notice (with immense relief) that it is only a few yards ahead, at the corner of the next street. You also realise for the first time that it looks the way you always wanted your child to look, and is dressed in the clothes you always wanted your child to wear - and it is still waving, beckoning you forward. You run towards it again, but when you reach the corner it has disappeared once more.
This is the pattern of the first fortnight. To prove your devotion, you must chase the child, but when you approach it, it disappears. Some days you feel you can almost reach out and touch it; on others, it waves at you from so far away that you hardly recognise it. And all the while the cloud grows darker, the air colder, the wind stronger - until, at the end of two weeks, the sky breaks, releasing a hard, black rain.
For the next fortnight, you gradually lose hope. You do not see the infant again, but you follow its footprints in the mud, and you know that you will find it soon (perhaps around the next corner). Sometimes you even believe that you can hear its voice crying out for you (but it may be the wind or the rain, or just your imagination). Eventually, you wonder if the letter you received was a joke, if it was delivered to the wrong address, if you really understood what it said after all. You consider yourself useless, and unworthy of such a message. You bitterly resent the unknown source.
A month after receiving the envelope, you reach the end of the last street, worn out with worry. You see the child ahead of you, but it is lying face-down in the mud. You think, briefly, that you can see it breathing, and you are afraid to touch it in case you disturb its fragile existence. But you must touch it - and touching it, you discover that it is dead. You weep, and weep, and weep; and when the weeping is done, you open your eyes and the infant is gone. Only its small outline in the mud remains, and as you kneel there, tracing its shape, you know that even this faint trace will be washed away with the rain.
Though you can hardly move at first, you find the strength to rise and the momentum to return home. When you arrive at your front door, a letter is waiting on the step.
It is a sign of failure. It is a sign of hope.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
~Falling~ Asleep
We've all had the weird experience when trying to fall asleep where you suddenly feel like you're falling, you twitch and have to start trying to sleep again. But have you ever wondered what it was, or why it happens?
This phenomenon is called a hypnagogic myoclonic twitch, or a hypnic jerk. According to the Mayo clinic, a nonprofit medical research group, around 70% of people experience this. From what I've read, I haven't found any definite reason for the twitch, but instead a few theories. One theory that resonates most with my biology background is the one in which your body, in its attempt to relax and prepare for rest, begins to relax its muscles. When these muscles go slack, your brain misinterprets it as a signal that you're falling. The accompanying twitch is your brain trying to compensate from you 'falling'. It's almost like a knee-jerk reaction. It's nice to know that my brain looks out for me. :3
For more info: Click here or here.
This phenomenon is called a hypnagogic myoclonic twitch, or a hypnic jerk. According to the Mayo clinic, a nonprofit medical research group, around 70% of people experience this. From what I've read, I haven't found any definite reason for the twitch, but instead a few theories. One theory that resonates most with my biology background is the one in which your body, in its attempt to relax and prepare for rest, begins to relax its muscles. When these muscles go slack, your brain misinterprets it as a signal that you're falling. The accompanying twitch is your brain trying to compensate from you 'falling'. It's almost like a knee-jerk reaction. It's nice to know that my brain looks out for me. :3
For more info: Click here or here.
Oh followers, I have slacked!
AS you can probably tell, it's been awhile since I've shared some nouns, verbs and adjectives with the world here. I could tell you it's because I had super-awesome-important-world-and/or-life-saving to do, but in reality, I just forgot about it. *insert sadface*
Moving on to our next order of business:
This blog doesn't really have much of a focus. It started out with interesting and neat things that occurred during my freshman year in college. Eventually it sort of fell apart, as I got distracted by other things. Shameful really. And now that it's summer, I have no new college-y bits to tickle your brains. I have to just make up interesting things on the fly for you :O
What I'm saying here is: What do you the people want to read about?
Do you want to hear things that are on my mind? Silly observations? Interesting bits about the universe? Book reviews? TV and movie reviews? Leave me some feedback, I'd love to hear from you :3
Now that I've made a completely boring post, I'll leave you to soak that up, and I might even follow it up with a silly-observation post. Good night, and may the mass*acceleration be with you always.
Moving on to our next order of business:
This blog doesn't really have much of a focus. It started out with interesting and neat things that occurred during my freshman year in college. Eventually it sort of fell apart, as I got distracted by other things. Shameful really. And now that it's summer, I have no new college-y bits to tickle your brains. I have to just make up interesting things on the fly for you :O
What I'm saying here is: What do you the people want to read about?
Do you want to hear things that are on my mind? Silly observations? Interesting bits about the universe? Book reviews? TV and movie reviews? Leave me some feedback, I'd love to hear from you :3
Now that I've made a completely boring post, I'll leave you to soak that up, and I might even follow it up with a silly-observation post. Good night, and may the mass*acceleration be with you always.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Captain's Log
Day 8:
Weather today was bipolar.
I joined in on the fun.
And I've got my grump face on.
Bring on the weekend.
Weather today was bipolar.
I joined in on the fun.
And I've got my grump face on.
Bring on the weekend.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Captain's Log
Day 7:
The ole ball n chain called. I was in the library. DAMMIT!
Test in an hour, I suck at studying.
Been "studying", and by that I mean: Watching infomercials on youtube and listening to nyan cat...
*dies*
X.X
~Signing off~
The ole ball n chain called. I was in the library. DAMMIT!
Test in an hour, I suck at studying.
Been "studying", and by that I mean: Watching infomercials on youtube and listening to nyan cat...
*dies*
X.X
~Signing off~
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Summer Jobs
So recently I've been trying to find a job for the summer. I'm really excited, because I've been looking in to possibly going out west somewhere and working on a ranch or a resort. I found this pretty decent site for looking up different places, and it's called CoolWorks.com. I've spent a few hours perusing it, and I've applied to a few places in Colorado, Montana, and the like. A lot of these places have horses[huge bonus] and also have free room and board, and will pick you up at an airport or bus station. I feel like this would be a great way to get out and see some more of the country while working hard, and making some money. I really hope to hear back from someone about it.
However, I know that I might not be able to go and work out west, so I've also been looking for work around Auburn/Lewiston. I'm really not too picky about what I do, as long as I can do it. I really hate not being good at what I do, and it makes me less motivated to work. I think that's what happened last summer. >.< If I have to stay in Auburn for the summer, I'd like to work with animals of some sort, perhaps at a pet store, or as a painter, because that's another thing I actually enjoy doing. I guess I'm an oddball sort of person. I enjoy many things, and can be happy with almost anything.
However, I know that I might not be able to go and work out west, so I've also been looking for work around Auburn/Lewiston. I'm really not too picky about what I do, as long as I can do it. I really hate not being good at what I do, and it makes me less motivated to work. I think that's what happened last summer. >.< If I have to stay in Auburn for the summer, I'd like to work with animals of some sort, perhaps at a pet store, or as a painter, because that's another thing I actually enjoy doing. I guess I'm an oddball sort of person. I enjoy many things, and can be happy with almost anything.
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