1242 In the am, the slow paced clouds covered the quarter moon as the wind howled through the dying trees. Lil began to regret not bringing a jacket, as she wrapped her arms around her button up shirt. She never really listened to anyone. The wind grew incredibly strong for a moment blowing leaves onto her torn jeans and her long light brown hair. She wiped them away as she began to see a small building, a flashing light coming from a window on the east side. It may have been in the middle of nowhere but she thought to herself it has electricity she could charge her dead phone and call someone to get her. She began to hurry across the semi wet earth. The sound of slooshing leaves and mud under her feet . As she stepped up on the porch she had a small sense of fear. Maybe it could have been she d seen too many horror movies or maybe it could have been the fact that she seen a missing girl 2 years younger than her on the news. She gained some false courage and the groaning floor boards guided her to the door. She knocked once. Nothing. She repeated and thought she may have heard the small pitter patter of feet inside. Her heart raced as she knocked a little harder. Nothing again... She looked left and right and once again she seen the flashing of light. Suddenly the light stayed on... She wondered if she should even really be there or not but the idea of walking another two and ahalf hours home after an argument with her parents was something her pride wouldnt allow... She was tired and just wanted to go home. She tryed the newly discovered doorbell and heard a weak ding. Nothing but the door seemed to be cracked open. She peeled the screen door behind her and carefully inched inside the house. It was a great deal different on the inside than the outside. The outside looking old, rundown rotted and haunted, the inside beautifully arranged no dust and decorated with modern day photos of a happy family. A mother, father, young daughter, and an older son. Even the dog and cat in another portrait with them playfighting with the daughter and son. Faces frozen in laughter. Feeling a great deal better she announced herself knocking loudly and crying out "Hello!" to did this few times as she walked around the living room past the kitchen towards the light. The house seemed weird though, on the outside there didn t seem to be any stairs leading down toward this light but she didn t care as she pushed her worries out her mind. She crept down the descending stairs once again crying out. She could see a red carpet and a table as she entered. She turned to the left to find to people on laying on the floor in an awkward postion motionless another sitting on the corner of the table swining his feet. His dark hoodie covering his eyes as he smiled. His black trenchcoat across his black jeans. Lil stopped in her tracks her back to the wall. He casually spoke in a friendly voice "I thought I heard someone." He dropped down and see seen he was a foot taller than her. "I asked tiffany here if she heard you but she s quite rude tonight. She stopped talking to me about an hour ago. Since she wont speak I will. What might I help you with?" she refused to look at him as her fear came back , her eyes glued to Tiffanys body. she stuttered " The door was open and the my phone is dead, I thought I could charge it here." When she finally looked toward him he was less than a foot away. He spoke "Such a shame... A beautiful woman like you stranded miles away from town..." He Ran his fingers through her hair. Her eyes widend. "Aww, such glorious green eyes... But they have fear." he laughed. "YOU SHOULD BE AFRAID!" as he grabbed her arm. She instictivly tried to strike him with her right arm, he evaded the punch, grabbing the attacking right hook and slammed her to the carpet. He pinned her to the ground and she seen his dark eyes... No white at all... Pure black with glowing gray pupils. An evil grin painted on his face... Black streaks painted as scars down both his eyes. He moved her arms above her head and held them in place with one arm. He ran his hand across Lils buttons and ripped her belt and her tears began to pour. The buttons removed themselves as he chuckled to plead to stop. She struggled to be released her bra now revealed. He laughed as he began to reach down to her crotch. She screamed for help as she shut her eyes tight. Waking up in her car rocking back and forth back , crying hysterically. She held herself tight protecting her body. Her button shirt still open her belt still ripped. She was back in the city, in a parking lot at the mall. She glanced out the window to see him waving at her. Her bra in his fingerless gloves palm. He shouted "Your welcome!" Laughing like the demon he was. Plauge appeared next to him and spoke. "Black N Mild, your one sick bastard..." The car screeched off into the night. Black N Mild turned to him and said "She learned a lesson tonight... And I had fun, it could have went a lot worse... And it will be for others in this city... I can hardly wait."
This will only be the begining the dark chapters of my character Black N Mild for my story... The Story I am writing is called The Hydro Brothers...
Manualist plays "Stairway to Heaven" by Led Zeppelin on his hands!
Wednesday, November 18, 2009 (01:19:33)
I love this song and now it has been played by this Manualist! I tried but I just couldn't make a single squeak! Try it and see if you can possibly make this noise!
Anyway, this guy has played many other songs and you can search them on Youtube, where I found this vid. Really cool, tell me what you think!
Work and Soul in Michael Jackson's This Is It (Part 1)
Tuesday, November 17, 2009 (21:26:00)
It says a lot that even while its principle star struggled to conserve creative energy and was simply “warming up” for the actual live performance scheduled to follow, Michael Jackson’s This Is It snagged the October 30 weekend box office in the United States with $21,300,000. It says even more that just two weeks after its opening, as of November 12, 2009, the movie has played in 3,481 theaters worldwide and generated just under $200 million in ticket sales.
At this point, going by the numbers alone, This Is It ranks second among the top-grossing music concert movies only to 2008’s Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus: Best of Both Worlds Concert Tours. However, the latter film accumulated sales over a run of fifteen weeks. Compare that to the former movie’s much shorter run and you have the basis for arguing that This Is It in less than a single month has become the number one music concert film in movie history.
The Human Nature of the Dance
With a brilliant fusion of rehearsal performances for sixteen songs and samples from numerous others, absorbing video footage, and informed commentaries, the rockumentary delivers everything those hoping to attend Jackson’s “comeback” concert could have hoped for with the principle exceptions being two things: Jackson’s flesh and blood real-time presence and body-to-body contact with throngs of screaming fans.
This Is It opens to an image of dancers who are not yet in musical motion. Later in the film, viewers will see their bodies at times ferociously animated or seductively elegant. At other times they will form part of a privileged audience watching a master showman at work. As director Kenny Ortega puts it, “the dancers are an extension of Michael.”
For the opening we get their faces, voices, and emotions as they speak briefly about the personal journeys that have brought them to this historic event: the much buzzed-about rehearsals for the King of Pop’s planned final concert tour.
One dancer says, “I’m excited. You have inspired everything in my life, my energy. You’re why I dance.”
Another: “I wanted to dance. That inspiration came from you. And you’ve inspired me and given me a reason to want to inspire others.”
And another: “I’ve kind of been searching for something to shake me up a little bit, and give me a, kind of a meaning, to believe in something, and this is it.”
Some of the dancers can barely speak because they cannot believe where they are and that their names are now associated with a man whose blood, sweat, and soul have been defining elements of pop culture since they were born. When they do speak, often they express gratitude for an opportunity that would not exist if the famous “Man in the Mirror” had not challenged himself at the age of forty-nine to tap once more into the seemingly eternal fountain of creative brilliance that allowed him as a child to blast through the world of entertainment like a comet of visions that only blazes through the Milky Way every other century.
The expressed gratitude is not sycophantic in any way. They comprise a natural response to Jackson as a cheerful giver who, seemingly through his own eyes, was never able to give too much or even quite enough. It, the gratitude, is also very natural because these are, after all, dancers. Artists like MJ himself. And they have just found excellent employment during a horrifying recession.
For these particular dancers, even more important than the promise of a better-than-decent gig in a field where plum gigs rarely come along, is the miraculous chance to work with and learn from a legend, someone whose genius could add a greater luster to their talents for the rest of their working dreaming dancers’ lives.
Stephs blog made me realize something...PAGE RAIDERS
Tuesday, November 17, 2009 (21:04:11)
I just realized its amazing how we will
write about our feelings and then carry
on playing our roles in page raiders like everything is ok.
When you think about it, isnt that all we ever do in life?
Have our moments of anger and sorrow
and then go on to a play a role that society has chosen for us.
The nurse, the working student and mother ect.
It seems we all HAVE to continue playing these roles.
What happens if we dont? What happens if WE decide
to go out into the world and show people how we really
feel?
It will lead to complications in relationships;
problems at work;
people will say you are rude and/or anti social.
So what? I didnt say "have nice day"...maybe I dont want you to
because mine wasnt nice and misery loves company.
Yeah, I said. What now? Am I anti-social for honesty?
I dont think so. Hey, if you are having a bad day
and you dont want to be all smiles with me..then dont be.
I can understand.
So, why is it that people complain about how "fake" others
are these days when a its all we can do to survive. Not to mention;
the ones complaining are the ones who are REALLY fake.
We have our friends we talk to, poetry to get it all out.
Still, even after the vent we dont feel great and we have to be
the happy, friendly people in public.
I know everyone has a mask. I just now realized how brilliantly
we wear them though. Ive come to the conclusion that the
only way we can ever really take off the mask
is to be brave and hope that society wont kick us in the butt
for being in a bad mood. Although, I dont mind a good butt kicking
every once in awhile.
Ok, so much for that. Laters poets and page raiders
noun: a communication that indicates lack of respect by patronizing the recipient
noun: lack of respect accompanied by a feeling of intense dislike
verb: look down on with disdain
verb: reject with contempt
Vacous eyes staring across the way
Becoming lost in my fantasies and lust
Dreaming up scenarios to escape the day
Escaping boredom on this city bus
I focus on him slithering in his chair
Feeling a desire and longing to touch
Avoiding his glance,he is unaware
of how I desire him,so very much
Suddenly,the bus comes to a halt.
Seemingly occupied,I miss my street
I sprint to the exit,It's all my fault.
Glad to be away from all the heat.
I live in the moment where I belong
There are so many you could loose track
Every choice makes me strong
So here I am to start again
Facing forward come what may
Old decisions I leave behind
Along with the mean things people say
New possibility I hope to find
I can’t change what I have done
Opening my eyes no longer blind
Out of the darkness and into the sun
You ran away and started someplace else
I protect from you the anger that’s caught
In the tidal wave you left behind
You binge until your full and then you move on
So be it then – you are dead to me now.
Tiptoeing through the used condoms
Strewn on the piers
Off the west side highway
Sunset behind the skyline of jersey
Walking towards the water
With a fetus holding court in my gut
My body highjacked
My tits swollen and sore
The river has more colors at sunset
Than my sock drawer ever dreamed of
I could wake up screaming sometimes
But I don't
I could step off the end of this pier but I got shit to do
And I've an appointment on tuesday
To shed uninvited blood and tissue
I'll miss you I say
To the river to the water
To the son or daughter
I thought better of
I could fall in love
With jersey at sunset
But I leave the view to the rats
And tiptoe back
In case you didn't know, one of my favorite musical artists of all time is Leonard Cohen. I have heard his music online, but do not actually own it. My problem is, I can't find one Compilation cd that has all of my favorite songs. 'The Essential Leonard Cohen' suffers from poor song selection, in my opinion. To top it all off, I can't even find any free downloads of my favorites. (Not ones that seem computer-safe, anyway.)
I mean, sure, 'Hallelujah', 'Suzanne', and 'Chelsea Hotel #2' aren't rare, but whoever picked the songs for his greatest hits cd is wrong to reject such classics like 'Death Of A Ladies' Man', 'One Of Us Cannot Be Wrong', 'Story Of Isaac', 'A Singer Must Die'.
Have you ever held on to a secret ?
i mean a secret that you kept all to yourself?
i have done this and it is about to bite me in the bud
all i can do is cry right now
i thought i had got past it until this morning reared its head
i want to run
i want to scream
i want to run in front of a moving car and see if i am truly lucky right now
because i don't feel lucky at all right now
and maybe it is for the best
i don't think i can face it
the reason for the secret:
if i ever told anyone ...i was in fear of how others would look at me
in fear of someone getting in trouble
in fear of some one getting killed
i was no longer the good girl because i knew better
but it wasn't my fault
i swear it wasn't my fault
so why is my head hung down like i am about to face the electric chair
The door bell rang on Barnaby road. A frail voice echoed through the rooms:“I’m coming, I’m coming. Hold your horses.”
The door opened. Henry stood there, looking angry.
“Jane, how long does it take for your legs to move from the kitchen to the door?”
Jane backed up a little. “Henry! You are a little early today? How was your day?”
“Why? Am I spoiling any of your plans?”
“Are you expecting someone who I should not meet?”
“Why don’t you just leave me Jane, I can look after myself.”
But Jane does not reply and goes into her bedroom.
Later, Henry was a bit furious as he received his evening tea from Jane.
“Jane, why did you add milk to my tea? Don’t you know I always have black tea?”
Jane shocked, finds it difficult to digest his words.
“But Henry, you always prefer your tea with milk.”
“Well! Today I can do without it.”
“For the past few days you have been getting angry with me over the silliest reasons possible, and your likes and dislikes have been changing like your clothes. Henry! All you do is doubt me, and find fault with whatever I do. I’m sick and tired of the way you act.”
Henry looking at the floor with his head hanging like a dead chicken.
“Jane! I give you freedom, just divorce me and move away. I’m sure it will do both of us some good.”
Jane with a sigh! Just turns her back to Henry and proceeds towards her room. After an hour Jane steps out, together she carried few bags and walked to the door, slamming it behind her.
Henry talking to himself…
“How I wish you did not leave, but I am forced to do this, because I love you.”
And he breaks down in tears…
“25556779… Hello! Mum, I am coming home, no time to talk, I will come there and explain everything.”
“My darling what’s wrong? Is your husband acting up again? Ok! Come home Jane.”
At Jane’s mums place, Jane sobs and hugs her mother; she had lost the hope that she had of a life of love.
“Mum! He has changed a lot; he thinks I am cheating on him, besides its been ages since we have been intimate with each other.”
Jane’s mum, Mrs. Simons was in her sixties, but no one could say so, because she was hyper active and looked much younger. She pulled Jane close to her and held her firmly. That night seen the lights on in Mrs. Simon’s house, Jane had broken down bad and found it hard to sleep.
»~~~~~~~~~~~~«
After a few months…Jane walks the streets of Chennai, Peter Willis by her side.
Peter was a family friend, who was away for 3 years due to his job. But now he has settled down in Chennai and plays a vital role in helping Jane through her times of sorrow.
“Jane, it makes 3years since we know each other, life has changed us a lot, don’t you think so?”
Jane stopped, her eyes fixed to the sky, as the clouds float. She is in deep thought, for her life has definitely changed.
“Darling, what’s worrying you, are you thinking about our marriage?”
Jane loved to tell Peter everything, but found it hard to express herself, struggling for words, she replied. “Not right now Peter, I’m just not feeling too well.”
Peter was worried and tried to be of some use.
“Jane, lets go home now. You can take some rest.”
Jane looked into his face smiling. “Yes, Peter, thanks a lot. I guess that should do me some good.”
At home Jane was fast asleep. Mrs. Simons was preparing the mid-day meal, as Peter shuffled through the newspapers.
“Peter, you look worried. Is there anything in the papers that I should know about?”
Peter could not put his head to read, for he was troubled.
“She is sad about something, I hope it is not anything serious?”
Mrs. Simons knew her daughter very well, and decided to tell Peter the whole story
Suddenly a voice from nearby…
“Mum, please stop, it’s been hard trying to forget my past. Peter not that I don’t want you to know, but I just can’t bear talking about it.”
Peter and Mrs. Simons gaze, they were taken aback to find Jane awake.
“Jane, I know it is hard, let’s just turn a new page. I am sure you will feel much better.”
“Yes, my darling, get married as early as possible.”
»~~~~~~~~~~~~«
Everyone was busy; another day in Jane’s life, but she has more hope in this one. The bridal dress had arrived and all she had to do was wear it for life again.
Then the phone rings….tring…tring…But no one has time to spare.
“My darling, don’t worry yourself, from today your life is going to change…try not to move so much until I set your hair.”
Jane was happy, with hope for a new life.
“Mum, it’s the second time, but you are right, I guess, may be it wasn’t meant to be.”
Everything seemed to be going on as planned. The atmosphere was more joyful than the word “joy” in Jane’s life.
But then again the phone rings…
“Hello!”
“This is Dr. Crandall, calling from Lifeline Hospital; may I speak to Jane Hunter?”
“Yes, one minute please.”
“Hello! This is Mrs. Simons, the mother of Jane, can I help you?”
The doctor spoke and spoke, everything just slowed down around Mrs. Simons; she was shocked and dropped the receiver. It was time to go to church, the mass was at 4pm, but Mrs. Simons was disturbed, she paraded the veranda. Somehow she dragged herself to see Jane.
Jane hurrying herself from room to room sees her mum worried.
“Mum, don’t just stand there, its getting late.”
“Hello! Mum what’s wrong?”
“Yes Jane, lets go.”
»~~~~~~~~~~~~«
It was about 3:30 in the afternoon, the guests had arrived at the church, everything seemed too good to be true.
“Mum what’s worrying you, I have been noticing you ever since that call at home, you don’t look happy!”
“Tell me who did you speak to?”
“What was it about?”
Mrs. Simons was confused; she did not know how to react as people swarmed the place: but she manages to talk…
“Jane my love, please pull yourself together for what I am about to tell you.”
Jane was puzzled and forced Mrs. Simons to tell her the whole story.
Mrs. Simons poured out her mind and all Jane could do was gaze, for it was something that made her forget her present.
She made haste and took a taxi to St. Mary’s cathedral…
The taxi stopped at the gates of St. Mary’s, everything seemed to halt in Jane’s heart. As she ran into the church in her bridal dress, all eyes glued on her; but she could care less. She got nearer and nearer, the sound of the organ and the choir singing their mournful hymns were like pins pricking her conscience. Reaching the doors of the church, she stopped to catch her breath then stared at the altar and continued running.
She could stop at nothing now, the crowd stood amazed watching this bride storm into the church
She reached a long table with wheels; it was a little more than 6 feet, long enough for a fully grown man to be laid out. Jane halted in front of this table, before the altar and gently bent her head, walking to the side of the table, the crowd was in murmurs and suddenly there arose a man.
“Excuse me; you must be Mrs. Jane Hunter?”
All Jane could do was nod.
And he replied “I am Dr. Crandall.”
Saying this, the old man slowly slid into Jane’s hand a sheet of paper.
Jane unfolded it, which turned out to be a letter from Henry.
My dear Jane,
I am sure when you receive this letter
you will be settled in life and I will not be there to torture you.
‘My wife’ if I can call you so,
I am very sorry if I have offended you in any way.
I love you too much to see you suffer
so I did not want to be a problem in your life,
hope you can forgive me…
And there was another sheet of paper; it was a medical report of a HIV+ patient.
The doctor added information of how there was a mistake during blood transfusion when Henry was admitted for a surgery and that he requested him not to tell her anything about it. Jane was losing it and felt so embarrassed for misunderstanding her husband.
Her knees fell to the ground, as her bridal dress fluttered in the evening breeze.
She moved her hands gently to Henry’s face in the walls of a huge black coffin and cried and cried…
In the evening, after the funeral, Jane returned home; her face as gloomy as a day could get, she walked into her house, Mrs. Simons stared at her daughter but Jane looked like she had just come out of the freezer. She continued to her bedroom, lost in thought without uttering a word and bolted the door behind her.
I have good news!! they r not closing down my dads job!! (thnk goodness) n you know that guy i mentioned earlier? well things r just great, ill leave it @ that. I wanted to say something though...my dads office was already in the act of closing down but i was scared...so i prayed. If I believed before...it's nothing compared to how I feel now.
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