January 16, 2012


(For those of you wondering what the heck this is, this is the second part. The first part is available as requested, but, be warned, it's the longest, most rambly, inconsistent, terrific, incredible, horrendous mess of words I've ever read. And I didn't write it. If you still want to read the first part of this story, just ask and I'll find some way to get the monstrosity to you.)


After the Storm

A long time ago, when huge gigantic wars were going on, and great evils were being scrunched to death, and when tortillas were still inclined to go skydiving, there were companions. Primarily, though, this story and the ones before it pertain to a girl by the name of Susie. Occasionally people were unsure of the spelling of her name, occasionally she was shot with darts, and occasionally she shot darts herself. Most of the time, though, she was confused.

No more. Susie had friends. There was Walter, who she had this thing for, and who, no less, had this thing for her. Yes. Things were had, back then.

There were Ashley, and Clefspeare, Tux and William and Bonnie. But they were all gone.

In the literal sense, Susie was sitting in a pile of dust. Well, no, it was actually sand. And it wasn’t so much a pile as, well, a desert. She was feeling pretty bad. Her lips had gone dry about six hours ago, and time progressing thusfar in such a was as not to end her life was nothing but a miracle. Anyway, she was really thirsty.

Queue beginning of absurdly long description of the local landscape.

Susie sat in a dune several feet taller than almost every other one for miles around. For miles and miles around, there was nothing but sand. There was yellow sand, orange sand, red sand, and there was white sand. In the distance, if one were dehydrated and malnourished, one might even make out blue sand, but that obviously couldn’t be anything but a mirage.

There were several boulders smattered in Susie’s broader vicinity. One of them happened to be shadowing her, oddly enough.

I say oddly enough simply because it was high noon. The sun was directly above her. Nevertheless, she was comparatively cool.

Which honestly goes without saying. If you weren’t aware, she’s got the nerve of twelve lions, and the backbone of an overdried tortilla.

Queue end of absurdly long description of the situation in general.

A spider walked up to her and insisted on occupying her knee.

She raised an eyebrow at it and shrugged. It’d been a while since she’d cared if she lived or died. She remembered the good times. Fighting monsters and conquering evils and whatnot. It had been fun. Moreover, there had been Walter. She loved the way he’d been surprised when she nearly crushed the life out of him after all that craziness. She loved the way his hair rarely smelled of dead fish, and she really didn’t mind it when he kissed her.

She started crying.

They were all gone. It seemed impossible that they could be alive. How could they have survived?


Moments after the companions had received their gifts from the White One, they had all sat around for a half minute staring blankly into the surrounding horizon and every one of them failing in every way to think of something to say.

Eventually, though, Walter wacked himself on the head and stood up. It took him some time to figure out what to do after that, but he guided his belt through the loops in his jeans. He sheathed Excalibur and proceeded to look like he had some idea what should be done.

Consequently, the fellowship turned their eyes to him, attentive and willing.

“Um,” he said, looking rather nervous all of a sudden. Suddenly, though, it was clear to him. The path ahead was laid out before him like a very-advanced holographic heads-up-display, but with less expanded abbreviations and less tech involved. Pretty much a gut feeling. It was like his heart could see the yellow brick road even though his eyes couldn’t.

“Come one, people, we haven’t got all day!” he said jovially.

And with that, he led them all into a sandstorm. He wasn’t exactly sure at what point it went from a greened rocky crag to a maelstrom of a desert, but at some point, it did. The company was divided thus: Bonnie found herself with Walter, William with Tux, Clefspeare with Ashley.
Susie, though, found herself alone. And, being the main character of an absurdly long story, she was spending some time feeling sorry for herself. Naturally, crying and not doing anything useful in the desert, she...

“Wanna play darts?” said a tall man with far too much facial hair and a wicked grin on his face.


January 09, 2012

New Year, stuff and things

Well, it's a new year. I guess that's alright. I haven't written any resolutions. I can't say my life's better yet for having an extra couple years on this decade. Anyway.

Hmmm. What to say. I might be getting a new camera and/or taking some photography classes soon. This primarily depends on my parents, which I'll be grateful for when I see it. Not that I don't appreciate their apparent willingness now, but it's a pretty big thing. I can't wait to go to NatCam to test out all the options.

Still cleaning the house. Unfortunately, I'm not taking much part in it anymore. I probably should. But on the other hand, I want to continue Taekwondo. Preferably more than before. Especially since spring might potentially be around the corner, but actually regardless.

The madhouse that is my mind? For the moment, things are moderately calm. I haven't really talked to a friend in a while, and I feel like I'm getting used to it. That's a bad thing? I'm pretty sure it is in the long run, but for now, I can imagine it being a good thing. Then again, my imagination...

Trying to find a film developer for the cartridge that came with the Olympus film camera. I took a dozen or so pictures...it's odd, though. It says it's a 24-shot one. I guess my confusion is a given, given the fact I've never really used a film camera before. (actually, I have, but it was in Colorado. Like twelve years ago. Disposable. Yes.)

Girl X is still on the lam. Question is, do I forget her as I've always thought of her (potentially meaning the abrupt and unstoppable return of affection just as she returns), or should I let absence do what it does?


Even more important, even if I could make my bloody mind up, would I be able to act accordingly?