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Im not really sure what I should put here so I now settle for... MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA


Downfall347
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VENTING!
What the hell is wrong with this generation! Everywhere I turn all i see is drama drugs and sex. Not to say sex is bad, but girls whoring themselves out or high schoolers getting S.T.I's! I mean come on! What the hell happened to innocence. What happened to the fifties! I mean thats what it was supposed to be like back then right? Innocent, happy, devoid of all this crap filling teenagers lives. But then I think about it and guess what, even they had problems like ours the situation was just askew from our own. Was innocence ever real with teens? Or is it just a self destructive cycle of lies, pain, and drama. Is anyone innocent, has anyone ever been innocent? Everyone around me is just getting all these problems dumped on them, problems no one their age, hell my age should have to face. Then, the people who I think are innocent show their true face and are in fact just like everyone else. It drives me insane! Why does it seem like all of the sudden children have to deal with the problems that should belong to teenagers, teenagers have to deal with the problems that should belong to adults, and god knows what the heck adults got to face, I expect to find out eventually. When did life become about surviving wave after wave of s**t! I'm just so sick of all this bull crap! Teens today, or at least my friends and myself seem to be pulled in a million directions with none of them being the right direction. You can have school problems, such as, oh I dont know, a Spanish teacher who demands perfection. Or you could have a job, which brings the pressure of doing well, of maintaining your grades even when you work and have no time for homework. But god forbid you quit, no then you'd be a quitter and your parents dont like no quitters! So, if the conflict between school and work isnt enough suddenly pointless bullshit drama cuts into your life and leaves you with a dark lump in your throat. No matter what you do someone is always on the verge of collapsing and if your like me you bend over backwards because your a good person and want to help them. Then your kindness gets thrown right back at you! Your friends are people who are there to support you. But they have their problems, they have their lives and ambitions and secrets. They have their own load to carry, and your Mr. Nice guy and you dont want to burden anyone, so you bottle it all up until it comes out in a poorly written rant in an online journal! Why does everything have to be so complicated, why do you have to be a certain way to be accepted. What about the weirdos or those who arnt in the best of shape or people who actually enjoy reading. People who dont act like a** holes because they can. What about the people who dont think they have some god damn right to act superior to everyone else. Its just all bullshit! What happened to basing your opinion of someone on their morals, on their personality, on who they are on the inside? Huh? Anything? Cause I'd sure as hell like to know what a*****e decided that you had to be muscular, you had to be tall, you had to be this you had to be that, all to justify some invisible model of what was an 'acceptable human being'. Or who was it that decided you had to act like a moron, you had to like sports, you had to act like this, feel this, and want this, or your not acceptable. Sometimes I honestly think the entire world would be so much better off if everyone just met and talked online. Thats why I like it here, no one can judge me for how I look. No here people can only judge me by what I say, what i feel, and dammit thats how it should be in the real world shouldnt it? Of course this is a pipe dream. Humans are humans, and its human nature to hate and caste out what is unlike you. So why does it feel like even among friends your alone. Is there really anyone out there who can accept every part of you? Let me not ask a question as I dont expect a response but present one. Do you ever hang out with friends and think to yourself, they know possibly one side of me. Why is that? Are we afraid to show who we are to the people we are connected to? Afraid that they will reject us. This is utter bullshit! Think about how many problems, how many fights, all of it, how many could be solved if people just tried to understand each other better. if they probed if they put themselves in their shoes.

Theres just so much crap, and I could write for pages, but if you read this far I both pity and thank you. I just think sometimes that this is wrong, that it shouldnt all be like this. Maybe it isnt, maybe its just people I know who have their lives thrown through a wood chipped every other day. Or it could be that everyone else ha far bigger problems than I do and Im just venting to someone who's problems I couldnt begin to grasp. Either way, if theres anyone out there who has it together, who is truly innocent, I sure as hell would love to say hi to you, and then get the hell away before the taint of the world gets on you.




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Storytellers angst
You know it is really odd howeasily someones mind can be screwed up. Now I pride myself on being a tad bit... off, not crazy, I hate that word, just a bit eccentric. What Im trying to say is that its shocking how something you can do, something you know you can do, just keeps getting pulled away from you. Be it personal issues, issues with freinds, family, dogs, cats, cacti, fire hydrants, cell phones, light switchs, words, I dont know but something that is messing with your real life. With me its writing.... I was good at it, I think, possibly, I hope. But just all this personal crap just showed up over the past few years and slowly but shurley, I find it harder and harder to put my stories on paper. I try, I think, I write, and do everything I used to and it just isnt clicking, Im not entering that magical place where time slips by me and I just write, not so much thinking of whats going to happen next but simply pouring my imagination on the paper and letting it take shape. There is one story I could write, one that I could never show anyone, never tell anyone, and never ever let it exist in the world. I would write it and destroy it like so many of my works. I cant let this story exist because its my story, and it would hold the secrets I swore to keep of nearly everyone I care about in this world...I'm stuck, plain and simple, I love to write, but I love the people in my life... I want to help them, I want to help hold their secrets.... but I also love writing, I love pouring out my soul unfiltered and unrestrained onto a page. Gha, miso getting too poetic here. But.... hell... I'm simply stuck between a rock and a wall of needles.



Downfall347
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Downfall347
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DARKER SIDE OF THE BRIDGE
Tis is a short and depressing play I wrote for my dramatic lit class in school. Its my first shot at writing a play so I thought I would try putting it here... dont question it.

THE DARKER SIDE OF THE BRIDGE

By: **** *******
(Lights up on a bridge. Majority of set consists of half of a wide road with a railing at the edge. Backdrop should show night sky and a city in the background. A young man in his early twenties stands on the other side of the railing getting ready to jump. In one hand, he is holding a mostly empty bottle of liquor. He should have the stubble of facial hair and a half tucked in shirt, and messy hair sticking up in all directions)

Man: Damn it all.

(He raises the bottle as if to down the remaining liquor, but it accidentally slips from his hand and falls in front of him. He reaches out for it with a jerk, nearly falling himself, grabbing the railing at the last second.)

Man: Jesus! Almost went over on that one. Definitely wouldn’t have survived if I had. Thank God! Wait…what am I saying? I want to die, right?

(Enter girl, mid-twenties from stage right. She is sarcastic by nature and acts as if she knows everything. She stops when she gets closer to him and listens as he continues…)

Yes. Yes, of course I do. After all, what other reason would I have to come to this bridge at this hour? What other reason except to jump? (Thinking) Well, I suppose I could be trying to get to the other side, but then why wouldn’t I drive? (Thinking again) Well, my car could be broken, and I could have walked! Yes that’s definitely the story I would tell anyone who came along right now. Wait, no, I wouldn’t say a thing, I would just jump. That’s what depressed people do. They kill themselves, right? Yes, yes, I definitely want to die. No question about it. Ok, one… two… three…

(He grips rail tighter and doesn’t jump)

Woman: Coward

Man: (Startled) Ahhh! Jesus! Who said that? (Looking back)

Woman: Umm… me.

Man: Oh, ummm. I was just crossing the bridge, right? Wait, yes; yes I was just crossing the bridge.

Woman: Uh huh, sure you were. You were just crossing… on the wrong side of the railing.

Man: Really… I was!

Woman: Uh huh.

Man: Aw, screw it! What am I wasting my time talking to you for? I’m going to jump!

Woman: So do it.

Man: What?

Woman: Do it!

Man: I will.

Woman: Look buddy. I don’t have all night, so either go splat or go home.

Man: Oh… Oh, OK… OK, I will.

Woman: Get it over with already!

Man: OK. Ready?

Woman: (Bored) Ready.

Man: OK… one… two…

Woman: Three… (He does not move) See? You are a coward.

Man: Shut up! That one doesn’t count. You said three and it…it startled me. I have to count to three on my own for it to count

Woman: OK already. Go ahead! If it will make you feel better, count on your own. I’ll just be quiet.

Man: OK… ready?

Woman: Ready.

Man: OK… one… two… three… (He does not move and the woman laughs) Don’t laugh at my pain.

Woman: Oh, please, you chicken, you’re not in any pain, not real pain. I mean look at you.

Man: What about the way I look?

Woman: Oh come on, half tucked-in shirt, messy hair, five o’ clock shadow, and from the smell of you, you’ve been drinking. I mean come on!

Man: What? What??? You’re making no sense!

Woman: I mean come on, you expect anyone to take you seriously looking like that? Your suicidal look…it’s just so Hollywood.

Man: (Mocking) Oh, I’m sorry! Please, tell me. How can I look more suicidal?

Woman: You dumb a**. See all over the media, movies, TV shows, whatever – everyone gets this perfect little image of the suicidal person. Heck, people are even making profit off it, and why shouldn’t they, if people buy into it they will certainly spend money trying to prevent it.

Man: So… are you crazy or something?

Woman: (as if she didn’t hear) And what no one really sees is that there is no standard image or “look” for someone who wants to take their own life. How do you think so many people are shocked by someone’s sudden suicide? It’s because you can’t really tell by looking at someone. Of course, when you look back after the deed is done, people always say there were “signs” but that’s simply because they now have a context to put everything in. This Hollywood image is crap! Anyone can be suicidal. It could be the mailman, the kid next door, or the happy-looking housewife with three loving kids. I mean, you don’t have to go out of your way to look suicidal, just be yourself. You lived being yourself, why not die being yourself? You get what I’m saying here?

Man: I think so. OK, seriously…are you crazy?

Woman: Only if you’re a coward.

Man: You know I’m going to jump.

Woman: Sure you are. Now come on over to this side of the railing.

Man: Why should I? Screw how I look! I am going to jump! It’s my plan and you’re not going to mess it up!

Woman: Why?

Man: What?

Woman: Why… why are you going to jump? What possible reason could you have to jump off this bridge at three o’clock in the morning?

Man: Well… my girl friend broke up with me. (She laughs) Stop mocking me!

Woman: Is that it? Some little prissy girl broke up with you?

Man: No, that’s not all! Well… my grades have been slipping lately… my parents keep talking about pulling me out of college. And my Dad! He wants me to come home and work for the company business and I… I just don’t want to spend the rest of my existence selling waterbeds.

Woman: So you’re just going to end it?

Man: It’s better than living a life that I hate. My home… it’s like a prison.

Woman: Oh, how poetic, how sad. Grow up!

Man: What?

Woman: I said grow up. So a girl broke up with you, big deal. So your college grades aren’t all they are expected to be. Join the club! So your Dad still wants you under his thumb. Screw him.

Man: But… it’s not that simple. It…it just feels like I’m helpless.

Woman: Sure it does. I mean you have problems, sure. You’re sad. So what? Heck, I think most of this world is composed of miserable bastards like you. But you don’t see half the population just up and killing themselves. You have issues, you deal with them.

Man: And what if I can’t? What if I really just can’t solve my problems? What if I really am screwed?

Woman: Oh, please. You can manage. That’s what your problems are, manageable. And you know what? No matter how many of those problems you have, you can still deal with them. Take some action yourself to change things. It’s only when you get those problems, you can do nothing about, problems that just eat away at you, never giving you a moments rest – that and only that is the time you can just give up, kick the bucket, go to the big bed, this side’s done, just flip me over. You see what I’m saying? But I guess it doesn’t matter, you would never have jumped, even if I hadn’t shown. up.

Man: How do you know that? I might still jump

Woman: You’re not going to jump. You haven’t committed suicide.

Man: Of course I haven’t committed suicide, I haven’t jumped yet!

Woman: There you go again! Shoving that Hollywood idea of suicide around. Suicide is not the act of stopping your heart from beating.

Man: No? Then what is it?

Woman: It’s the act of deciding you’re ready to die. See, that simple decision is suicide, because at that point you stop living. You stop caring what others think about you, you stop dreaming, you stop trying, you stop caring about everything. At that point, you’re dead, just you haven’t stopped your heart yet.

Man: And how do you know I haven’t done that?

Woman: Because you still care. Hell, you went to a lot of trouble to make yourself look suicidal. If you had, you wouldn’t have done that and you certainly wouldn’t have hesitated in jumping. Now come on, this side of the railing’s fine too. (He does not move for a moment, but then slowly climbs over onto the street) There you go.

Man: Who are you?

Woman: Just a person crossing the bridge. (They laugh)

Man: Thank you.

Woman: It’s OK. Now go home, and don’t you even think about suicide again.

Man: I… I will. And I won’t.

Woman: Good luck, and remember – all your problems are manageable.

Man: OK

Woman: Well, why are you just standing there? I’m not going to do a trick! Get going.

(He nods and starts off stage right)

Man: Thanks again.

Woman: My pleasure. And remember, Hollywood is wrong, anyone can be suicidal.

(He nods again and exits.)

Woman: He’ll be all right

(She walks over to the railing and climbs over. Lights start to fade)

Woman: One, two, three…

(She jumps, lights out)




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Storytellen #2
Hi and welcome back to Storytellen, this days tale from my 'life' is...

The Chicago Incident
(Road trip series)

Ok, so every year my entire family goes on a road trip to somewhere in the country. Well about two years back our destination was northern california. Well anyway day one of what was going to prove to be a very cramped trip we started to near chicago after about six hours of driving and already having gotten lost twice. we still have to go south a bit before we get to the freeway west. So we can either take the side roads like we had done before or save three hours of being lost or just take the chicago turnpike and just pay the change at the tolls. Well this year we managed to convince my step dad to take the turnpike after we reminded him of being hoplessly lost in the bad parts of Chicago. So we hit the turnpike and got to the first toll booth to find no ones in the booth and the gate is up. Well my step dad says that he does have the change to pay but we are in an out of state rental car so he tells my stepdad to pass right through. So we pass right through, then another booth of the same, then another of the same. So at this point we were assuming that they had the day off or something. That is until we got to one with the gate down. So we ask my step dad for the change, it was forty cents, and he... didnt have a cent. So we search the car over and instead of forty cents, we find two pennies. So we toss those in while we search for others and low and behold the gate openes. So we thought we had found some kind of glitch or something in the automatic tolls. So we get to the next one and find two more pennies and throw them in... it does not open. Now I think this is a good time to tell you that my step father decided to get fast food chilie when we stopped an hour ago and he had a pretty disturbed stomach, and dont ask me why because I find it disgusting, but when he gets indegstion he unbuckles his pants.So first my step dad gets the brilliant idea to tell my brother who is driving to honk the horn like we got ripped off. Suddenly my brother comes out with the little fact that he had found a quarter, all while our horn is blaring. So he hand it to me because I'm closest to the little bucket, I roll down my window and toss it... I missed. So we are sitting there with no money and about six miles of traffic behind us. So my step dad decides to get out and search the ground for dropped change completely forgetting his pants are unbuckled. So naturally he steps out and his pants drop mooning six miles of traffic. While he ripped his pants up and ran around to the other side of the car while we watch in horror. Now apparantly alot of people miss because there was alot of change on the ground, he threw it in, and the gate opened. Now my brother thinking the gate is about to close floors it leaving my step dad a hundred yards behind at the gate. So we stop while cars are whizzing past and my stepn dad runs to us trying to hold his pants on. He gets in and we get the heck out of there. That, my freinds is the chicago incident.



Downfall347
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Downfall347
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Little baggie o' blood
So, I gave some blood today. It was a blood drive at school, took FOREVER! Apparantly my veins are small and hard to find and when they did find them they would move, it was kinda funny but annoying. So then I get it all drawn out and I was feeling a bit sleepy, but on the brightside I got out of most of my least favorate class for it. I know this is probably the most boring entry into my journal yet but DEAL WITH IT! My heads still feeling fuzzy and I gave the blood nearly seven hours ago. So after I had my lovely trip to those vampires at the red cross I found my way back to my class and discovered that n ot only did I miss a video but also we had a substitute and it was an easy and somewhat entertaining day... damn. Its been an interesting day to say the least.




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Storytellen #1
First off, I know the title is misspelled, its intentional.

Ok, this si the first of what I hope will be many stories of "My life" that all happened in a special place that exists in my head... sigh... they locked me out after the incident with the tiger cubs and the spagetti monster... OH WELL!!!!! mrgreen They have to let me back eventually, after all, I hold their world in my head MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA... anyway, here is the story lovingly titled

MY CUBAN CHILDREN



Okay my story begins one fine night out in chicago. I was visiting my freinds in the rabbit mafia that particular night and things got a little bit wild. Well the next thing I know is I wake up on this trash barge headed towards Cuba with a note on my chest and stiches in my side. Well naturally I was... lets just go with confused. So I take a look at the note

Dear Nick,

Sorry about the stichs, we kinda needed half your liver... DONT QUESTION IT!!!!

With love, The God-rabbit



So... I start survivng on trash, did you know that if dipped in salt water mold dosnt taste that bad... good because its not true.

Well eventually I land in Cuba, I take a step off and the next thing I know Cubans are coming from EVERYWHERE. I felt a sharp crack to the back of my head and passed out. Well when I woke up I was in some random house, and I was surrounded by a groupo of children all chanting, "GORRILA DE HEREO" Little did I know this means hero of gorrilas. I was a little freaked out and ran, them following me chanting. Also little did I know that the cubans had been messing around with genetic engineering and unknown to me these kids were genetically my children. Well I hopped on a trash barge leaving them on the dock chanting. When I got back home a few weeks latter I got a call. Needless to say I was shocked when I had it all explained to me, except the gorrila thing, still nothing on that. So I send them 35 cents a week which as it turns out converts into a very wealthy life in cuba.

And that is the story of MY CUBAN CHILDREN





Downfall347
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Downfall347
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RANDOM CONVERSATION!!!! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!
1: so... hows it going

2: Blue

1: what?

2:Blue

1: What about blue?

2: Just Blue

1: okay... hey do you know whats wrong with this guy?

3: Green

1: What the hell?

3: Green

2: Blue

1: alright this is getting ridiculous

2: Blue
3: Green
2: Blue
3: Green
2: BLUE!!!

1: I am so confused

(Enter 4)

1: Oh hi, can you tell me whats going on?

4: ...(blank stare)...

1: Oh dont tell me

4: red

1: DAMMIT!!!!!!!

2: Blue
3: Green
4: Red

1: Ok, I'm trying to be patient here but

5: MAGENTA!!!!!!!

1: GHA!!!! WHERE DID YOU COME FROM???

2: Blue
3: Green
4: Red
5: MAGENTA!!!!

1: THATS IT!!!!!! (Pulls out super radioactive monkey bomb) ANYONE SAYS A COLOR AND I KILL US ALL!!!!

2: ...
3: ...
4: ...
5: ...
2: ...
3: ...
4: ...
5: ...
ALL: YELLOW!!!!!!!

1: GHAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!

BOOM!!!!




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THE PENGUIN CONSPIRACY!!!!!!
I tell you this now so you wont be fooled like everyone else.

Our story begins in a small inuit village in Alaska. That was the only warning we ever got and it went ignored. An entire village in 1879 was wiped out overnight killing every single person inside. This was blamed on another local village going to war.

But I tell you this was no act of man... but of bird. The village, or at least some of its occupants had grown wise to their plots and so in return... THE PENGUINS KILLED THEM!!!

The conspiracy goes back hundreds of years the whole time these foul fowl have plotted. The end game starts soon.

Every year we see the commercials, diamonds people, diamonds. See the penguins have made deals with the diamond cartels. Every year the commercials grow more numerous and constant. Every year more victims become brain washed into the shiny rocks. And soon in only five or ten years they will have us all. Brain washed and captivated by the expensice shineys the penguins will move behind our backs.

They will overthrow all national governments and enslave us all. Think about it, all those penguin movies? its all to get us to think their cute and let our gaurds down... but I tell you... THEIR EVIL!!!!!!



Downfall347
Community Member
dev1


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