Episode 10: Long Time No See

Been awhile. Was not sure what to say after that last long, lost, love thing but hey here we are. I've honestly been up to a lot.

First off, I have subscribed to a few writing programs that have really helped me get my shit in gear with the whole writing scene. That means I picked up motherfuckin' Grammarly and Microsoft Office. That's right shit just got real... I'm sorry that was terrible.

But yeah, I'm excited about having them now. I'll most likely be using it to fix some of my past blogs. Just in case someone actually wants to read my shit. I've also finally reached a benchmark that has taken me two years... You ready for this?... I have now passed 100,000 words. Thats right... Sounded better in my head.

Besides that I might also get back into working on my fanfiction, seeing as it actually has readers that like it. And all it took to get readers was to suckle on the teat of a well-established franchise that is loved by millions... imagine that. I also feel bad that I, like many just kind of up and left it.

I've also beguin the document my lore for my story because it's now getting way to large to keep locked up in my skull. Might try and do something with that as well once I get things kicked into high gear.

On the social side of things I have finally proved to myself that I do have a life. You know. As far as a housebound, unemployed writer can anyway. Which means going over to a friends house and playing the new Smash Bros, four player Mario 3-D World, and drinking beer.

This all ended with me going to another group of friends music show in a pub, holly fucking shit two days in a row. That was very cool. Except I was a bit salty because everyone in the place had a girlfriend but hey thats my issue and no one likes a downer.

Wow it's nice to be doing this again. Hope everyone had a good saint patties day.

Episode 9: Is It Worth It

Sorry, but this is a rant. But fuck it I'm drunk. Love sucks, but at the same time it doesn't. I honestly don't know anymore. I wish I were done ranting about being broken hearted. Not here of course because it's the first time I've mentioned it.

I opened up the floodgates of how I feel, and now I don't think I can turn it off. I long for the days where I kept it inside. Because at least then I knew that all the shit that I kept in didn't threaten to push away people that I care about. But will what I think and say do such a thing? Fuck I don't know. It could just be self-destructive thought in my head. I'm paranoid like that.

Back on point. I like that I at least got to know what love felt like. But was it? No sure of that either. Becuase I always thought that when you loved someone you held onto that spark. My grandparents did. They had their problems, but they stayed together for sixty-five years. I based my perception of long-term relationships on that.

Am I wrong? Because, with my situation I was told "Hey we had a good run, I tried for four years. But it's gone. I want to grow on my own, and love myself." It was explained to me that trying for four years was a long time. And I get it, My growth as a person seems slower because of the route that I choose. I just want to say one thing. I don't think four years is very long. Not in the grand scheme of things. Four years is nothing. Time will go by, and that four years will seem like a far off memory. Might take ten years, might take twenty or thirty. But the result is the same. In the end. That, four years will turn into an insignificant blip in the time stream of your life.

Yeah. I don't have what you have. Because I picked a harder path with more ambition, and I feel like I'm being punished for it. Sigh I wish I didn't feel these things, and I'm sorry for the rant. Everything just seems to be spiraling now, and the only thing that gives me comfort is the sound of each key on my laptop. And a dream to be better. If not for that I would have fully slipped into depression If I haven't already. Having long distance friends that I can play with and talk to over a good ole' game of League Of Legends helps, but after the game ends and the call finishes. It always seems like a temporary fix.

At this point, I feel like I either need unhealthy amounts of whiskey or depression pills. But I won't let myself slip down that rabbit hole. Can't afford to lose the brain cells. The manuscript matters too much to me, and I need to be as sharp as possible in order to see it all the way to the end.

But what do I want? Well, this finished and going somewhere of course, but beside that I want a long-lasting, meaningful relationship with someone who can accept all my bullshit and flaws. Is that really so hard? Do I ask too much? Or is paranoia and depression really just starting to get to me. I don't know. You tell me.

Episode 8: Chapter Two

Well, I guess a good follow up would be to show chapter two of my story so here you go.

Chapter 2: Planet Wilderan

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! echoed in her, once, quiet private quarters. The alarm clock sounded like an irritating screech that tried to pierce her ears and make them bleed. Not only that, but for a second she was almost sure that her brother had made this blasted thing just to piss her off. However, she knew better and had to get up. She groaned beneath her silk like black sheets. Lazily, she raised her left arm and points her hand evilly towards the obnoxious circular buzzing red alarm.

With an almost demonic crack of her hand, the buzzer was suddenly assaulted by an unnatural swirl of wind and then exploded into thousands of tiny pieces of red glass and machinery. Through half lidded barely conscious eyes, she blankly stared at the scattered pieces of debris on the floor. Her eyes had a slight blue glow within them, admiring her handy work she weakly smirked at the now silent hole above her double doors.

She jumped out of bed, almost launching herself. She performed a tuck in front flip, landing soundlessly on the balls of her feet. She stood there in her black and blue lace bra with matching panties. As she stretched and cracked the rest of her bones, the woman’s lips turned down into a frown before saying to no one in particular:

“Why did that brat brother of mine wake me up?, It hasn’t even been half of a full cycle yet….” She walked towards a cylinder like structure on the far right side of her now messy bed. It stood at about 10 feet tall and three feet across with a sword and shield symbol that pierced an O in the center of the structure. The women waved her hand across it and suddenly it opened up. The doors slided into the structure and the upper half curled up into this strange machine like structure.

She stepped in, yawning, trying to wake herself from her annoyingly brief sleep. The doors snapped shut almost at an alarmingly fast speed. Mere seconds later, there was a loud snap and light had been seen through the cracks. As the door opened, the steam bellows out as she stepped out. With slightly damp hair, she was dressed in her full on uniform: a plain sleeveless black shirt with light metal mesh sown within and extending out to the neck and from her shoulders to her wrist.

Around her waist, a belt with small pockets held up her baggy, white pants. Her long, white robe with three black lines went down her shoulders horizontally. A solid black line went vertical at the ends of the sleeves and at the bottom of her robe. Near the center of these robes lied a circular symbol with two arms crossing each other clad in the same metal mesh around the arms and wrist.

The now fully awoken woman dashed past her double doors, turned left, and ran down the long hall with blinding speed. As if  mocking the great halls artificial gravity, she ran across the side of the wall and curves around the ceiling before touching back down to the ground near a large metal door that swings open after sensing her presence. She stepped into a circular enclosed space with two chairs at the center and a large control panel around it.

Above that a specialized type of glass pain. All she could see was the vastness of space and faraway stars zipping by. Gods, she hated space travel. This fact  perplexed her brother and slightly pissed him off. He wondered why  She was so good at piloting the Space Wing Fighters yet hated them. To him, it was like someone who’s afraid of water but at the same time a fucking expert swimmer.

She raised an eyebrow in slight irritation as she waited for the chair on the far right to turn and acknowledge her presence. Instead, an evil grin slowly stretched across her face. She cleared her throat and said,

“The mission alarm broke again.” As if on cue, a feminine mechanical voice announced,

“AUTOPILOT ENGAGED”.  Suddenly, the chair turned with a mechanized hiss. The pilot eyed the woman in front of him. She could see his eyebrow twitched in annoyance. His hands were lightly digging into the arm rests. He fiercely tapped his right index finger.

“Are you fucking kidding me?! How did it break, Nizaraa?!” he scolded.

“Must’ve been faulty wiring,” she stated lazily as she scratched her head.

“BULL SHIT!! I'm the head of the Order’s Science Development and Exploration Corps. I designed battlecruisers and star ships that will outlast their damn pilots! And you have the balls to tell me... that little tiny light has broken for the three hundred and eighty seventh time... from faulty wiring?” he roared. His sister was drawing his patience.

“Wow…  really? You were counting?” She retorted as a smirk spread across her face. The young looking man started to spout out incoherent muttering about Vanguards. She ate up every second of his anger. Pleased that he was as mad as she was, but soon stopped him for there were more pressing matters at hand.

“Hey Leezaar. What's this assignment?” In a bit of a shock, he stopped talking and looked off to the side. Nizaraa has been with her brother long enough to know that he was trying to figure out how to articulate what needed to be said. This caused her eyes to narrow, which only meant that she was really not going to like what her little brother was going to tell her at all. She could only brace herself for whatever he was about to say.

“This one comes from  High Command.” her brother informed, not turning to look at her. Her eyebrows furrowed, she asked:

“Wait, from lord-”

“Yes, it's from the master.” He answered quickly. He squeezed his left hand into a tight fist. Nizaraa was hot headed at times, but Leezaar also knew she was as sharp as they come. She could catch on quick. Unfortunately, it only made it that much harder for him.

“So, that means he doesn’t want me to send one of my subordinates…. Must be serious then.” She pondered, leaning against the wall. Her arms crossed in front of her chest as she stared up at the ceiling. He turned his chair to look her.

“Yeah... Central Command has found it. His energy signature has resurfaced to the living.” He stated, grimly. From this new information, her eyes widened and the pain she held  deep within for many years gushed forth all at once. It was like someone was stabbing her heart. Being the type of woman that didn’t like weakness, she kept her composure as best as she could. Keeping her treacherous tears back, she looked at her now worried brother thinking damn him for knowing me so well. Hesitantly, she questioned:

“How..? That can't be. I haven’t--”

“I know, Niz, but it's him. He's back in a new form, and HE wants you to go get him.” he pointed out, bitterly. She couldn’t refuse the master and knew he was wise beyond all. But, why her? She had many qualified subordinates who could have just as easily taken on this retrieval mission. Despite the situation, she knew that their master must have had a good reason for it. Why me? was all she thought. Acting as the top notch fighter that she was, she shut down her feelings for the assignment at hand.

“So, what planet will we find this boy on?”she asked, monotone.  Leezaar walked to his hollow screen and pulled up a three dimensional holographic map of nearby galaxies. As he flicked around looking for the right galaxy he touched one and the map zoomed in

“Here, in the Rogonias galaxy.” he stated, touching it again to zoom in further. “The Solestreum solar system.” She looked around the map.

“What planet?” she asked.  He zoomed in one last time to one world. He responded with

“Planet Wilderan.”

Episode 7:A Step Or Six Back

     You know, I've spent a lot of this time talking about random stuff, that I can't see to many people caring about, because really, I'm just some asshole typing on a Lenovo. But let's try getting down to the grit of why I'm trying to get some of you good folks to even give me the time of day. Let's talk about A little story I'd like to call Order Seven: Shadow Of The Crow.

     First of I should mention what genre this story falls under. It is a science/fiction story, and could also be described as a space opera. It it is a third person narrative that revolves around a boy named Roku Con Ookami, and other important characters around him. He is human like, but has physical traits that would be more common place on a wolf such has his ears, eyes, fangs claws, and tail.

     When we meet him he is a small boy, around the age of six. The only thing he knows about himself is that there are others like him that are trying to find him, and kill him. He is eventually discovered by an Organization that has an unknown connection to the boy. They calls themselves The Order Of Seven Swords. They send two of there seven leaders to retrieve him. From there on Roku will have to face things that will test his resolve, and his ability to survive.

     Characters Of Importance 
Roku Con Ookami- The Wild West Wind Gate
Nizaraa Von Rook- The Princess Of Poison/ Silver Scorpion/ Killer Queen/ East Wind Gate/ Iron Blooded Bitch
Leezar Von Rook- The Mad Spider
Coal Blaze Jr.- Wielder Of The Phoenix
Talon Of The Lost Light
Emalfia- The Emerald Flame
Chimera- The Immortal Flame
Frost Of The Frozen Cell
Mi-Dori- The Blind Dragon/Twin Flame/ The All Seeing
Hawken Dov- The Last Line Of Kronos

     There are many more characters, with even more Honorifics (Which I love to make) But I'd like to save them for another time.

     One more thing I would like to share is the name of the books I will make after Shadow Of The Crow

             

Book Two: Destiny Of The Gate Keeper

Book Three: The Coming Of The King

Book Four: Mystery Of The SwitchBlade Assassins

Book Five: Revenge Of The Dragon

Book Six: The Fall Of Black Light Creed

Book Seven: The Collapse Of Order

Book Eight: Rise Of The New Seven

I hope you enjoyed this taste Of My Story. Let Me know if you want more.
      

Episode 6: To Much?

God, my last post was a mess. And I call myself a writer. Yeah... A writer that doesn't proofread. Well, that's what I get for writing while I'm forcing myself to stay awake. So I'm curious. Is it bad to dream big? Because after thinking about everything I've ever wanted to do in life. It always seems a little bloated (Hugely). To the point of being unrealistic. Back in High school, I made friends with some of the best people I know. Jared, Nick, and Liam. They could all draw to, very well, better than me. And they too, came up with some great stories, and worlds. I had always thought that I couldn't have just happened to become friends with these misfits for no reason.

     There is something larger at play here. I bet if we all came together we could take the art world by storm. We could make our books and stories. The entertainment industry would recognize us, and we would make it big. I think Nick felt the same. But eh, now he does music. We all change eventually. I still to this day think we can, but you know. People will do what they want to do. I have no right to forge your path. Hell when I wanted to look at  food trucks, I wanted it to go so big that eventually it would expand into buying more and being all over the place as a mobile chain.

     Even me wanting my own house seems to be a bit much, well maybe not too bad. At the end of the day. What I want is a four or five bedroom house with at least three bathrooms, two pools, one that's four to five feet deep, and another that goes to eleven. A theater room filled with nerdy movies I love to watch and surround sound. Let's see... Oh! There also has to be an arcade room, library and one hell of a man cave where each wall is costumed designed to look like Star Wars Episodes three through six.... Jesus that is a shit ton.... Moving on!

     I have a friend who also wants to write a book, but her goal is a lot more grounded. She just wants to put it out there, and have the satisfaction of saying that she did. And that's cool. I understand that. Simple dreams are nice, but for some reason I shoot for the fence on what I want. Even with this manuscript. As it stands right now with the word count, there is more there than the first Harry Potter Book... And I'm just a little over halfway done. That's not even the end of it. If I can just manage to get this to an agent. I can move on to the other seven books I plan to write for it. Oh my lord do I aim high. After that, I even want to write at least three more separate stories with an unknown number of books in them.

     I even want to use that as my way in, and write comic books. But that's okay, right? I'm not just some delusional asshole am I? Probably but let's think about this. Everyone who has ever been anything in this world dreamed of getting there. You have to dream big if you want to go big right? Am I crazy?! Probably. But that's not the point.  The point is, that you should dream big, and do everything you can to achieve it.

     One last thing. Seeing as I mentioned my friend, and his music switch, I feel it's only fair to send a link for his band because their music is actually pretty good.     https://www.facebook.com/groups/TheRightsidersBand/

Episode 5: Your Kid Is A Sociopath

Children are little sociopaths. Sounds harsh I know, and it makes me sound like I hate em, but no. Kid's can be awesome, and they generally can understand more then we give them credit for intellectually. I honestly don't know why most adults underestimate children, and there abilities. For the simple fact that every single one of you started off as kids. You knew things. You weren't stupid. You just lacked experience. Which goes back to my main thought. (Well not really, but let's act like it does.)

     Children... Can be little monsters. Just think about your garden variety sociopath. They can lie constantly, without remorse, no shame, traumatic experiences for most might just be meh for them, same thing with good news. They can be very charming at first, highly intelligent, there very manipulative, violent, sexual (Ok normally, I wouldn't say this in comparison to children, because first eww, and second eww, but once again I remember being little... Think I got my first worm wake up at like, age three, and if you ever keep up with the morning news you will here some shit about children doing stuff in school that will guarantee that you wake right the hell up( (LIke me. Never expected to wake up, and hear some shit about a elementry school boy, and his sister raping a girl..)) , and say what the literal fuck?) , Huge ego, disturbing eye contact, small amount of real friends, and immaturity just to name a few.

     Sound familiar? That's right behind the adorable face of your crumb snatcher lies the mind of an unrelenting degenerate. But hey, that's not really a child's fault. Children are still developing mentally as they grow, and have to learn how to behave appropriately. And most of them do grow up to be fine adults in life. So calm your tits I'm not a child hater. Just watch out for that one kid that moves on from fucking with ants, to things that actually bleed... He or she might be in need some serious supervision because he's not normal, also add some big brother style monitoring.

      High School kids however, Oh man do they get to me. That could mostly be from memories I have of high school. Little punks can just be fucking evil. I feel like that should be the age where you start to chill the fuck out, and learn, but they still do a lot of mean evil shit (not all of course.)

     Like you C.G you mother fucker. Everyone thinks your funny, and shit. And here I come to school with my brand new psp, while being naive, and you ask if you can borrow it. I give it to you. You play it for a very long time. I stop seeing it. Ask you where it is, and you smile in my fucking face and say
     "I sold it." And for some reason I never mention the damn thing ever again because I don't want to get anyone in trouble... Should have lit a fire under your ass... hmm... Maybe this is why some people thought I would snap one day. Anyway that was ninth grade, what are you going to do. But it wasn't just that. I have in my time heard students say some truly ass itchingly horrifying things. Like when two students got in a fight. The loser had got beaten so bad that he suffered major brain damage. Permanent brain damage in fact, and I think some issues with his hearing. I hear some girls talking about it who were friends with the winner. The thing that got me was that the hot one said
     "It sucks that it happened to him, but he deserved it. He was annoying." Annoying...Annoying... AN-FUCKING-NOYING?! are you shitting me?! What kind of bullshit is that!? Did I miss something!? Did everyone meet up while I was asleep, and decide that it was now socially acceptable  to bruise someones brain?!, and fuck up there ability to speak?!, and have a normal life because they peeved you that day? Was there? Really? Did it involve a gable?! I bet it involved a gable.

     That's not the worst of either. My school was very tame in comparison to other schools in fact besides that one time it was nice (and maybe a few other things) No other schools had it a lot worst. A couple of my friends had gone to a fantastic little gem of a school called Wallenberg high. A relatively normal. It even has a "Freshmen Friday." Oh man those little scamps are going to toss ninth graders into trash cans? Lovable little scamps. Wait. What's that you say? That's not what they do? They beat the shit out of 9th grade boys? A friend of mine was picked up by his ankles, and dropped on his face, receiving optic nerve damage you say? Some girls would get raped on some years you say?... What the fuck is wrong with you little pricks? I just don't get what about that seems acceptable. Or how that could happen. Actually I believe I did have another good friend who went to that school, and had come up with a sure fire way to not get beaten up by seniors. It even proved to be 100% effective... Bringing a metal bat to school.

     Can't help but wonder if it's something in the food sometimes that fucks with young heads. Must be the fries. That's right kids! Ronald Mc Donald seasons his taters with sociopathic salt to really bring out the flavor. Christ is there even a message or moral to this rant, at this point? Don't eat fast food I guess. And oh maybe watch your children, and help guide them along in life.

     So what do you think? I basically just called children little emotionally confused monsters, so I would like to hear thoughts from others with comments. Also like If you would want more absurd thoughts from me.        

Episode 4:Where To Go From Here

Well, That last one was dramatic. Almost not sure where to go from there. I could talk more about my actual writing, or take it back a notch, and talk about how middle, and high school, plus my friends, and how that all helped shape me today. Anything anyone would want really. But until then, here's my prologue, and chapter one

 Prologue

War has ravished the universe, itself, in ways that could only be done by the likes of Omnipotent beings.From the Source that is the heart of all existence by beings that were once brothers, these formless deities of darkness and light fought over the all  existence that is the Source. It was over this power that these brothers practically broke down the heavens. They took their struggle and blood shed to the mortal plane. Donnining the form of mortals in the world of the living One continuously fighting for absolute power; the other for absolute order.It was from that ideal that sparked the name of our orginization, The Order of Seven Swords and One Lord..

They rallied like minded mortals all across the universe to converged around them. These followers formed together to fight for their cause.Blood has been shed on both sides of battlefield as metal clashed and plasma fire was exchanged.  Their constant struggle has lasted for countless generations. For most, death and war simply have became a way of life as these two Immortals continue to gathered forces of mortal beings around them from across the universe. As the multiple millennia had gone by, there had been no end in sight. Hope for a true end to the suffering had seemed like a child's dream. However, caught in a moment of weakness, the dark god's greatest general and overseer of his vast armada, known as the crow king, has been captured by Order's, but at the cost of a chosen mortal  known as the Gatekeeper.

He. He. He….

Part 1: The Wolf, The Scorpion, And The Tarantula

Chapter 1: My Name Is Roku

Lightning struck nearby the mouth of a large cave. The flash of light startled the boy within.  He woke abruptly. He rolled and scurried backwards in fear. The cold night air burned his lungs as he took in deep, frantic breaths. In the dark the only source of light were the eyes of this startled wolf -like child. They appeared to have a threatening golden glimmer before fading. He rubbed crust out of his eyes and said

“Stupid.Damn.Sky light. Wait that’s not right.Lightning.Ugh.”

Rain splattered down heavily in the forest. Laurel green clouds veiled the night sky. In the forest, most of the creatures were running for their dens and burrows. They had steered away from this cave for the past several nights. It was intimidating in size and covered with thick moss inside and out. There was no source of light from within.The mysterious youth frightened them.

These beasts might have been primitive, but they knew this scent well and the mad frustrated howl that accompanied it. Ferocious wolves ruled over these lands as deadly hunters. From within the depths of the cave, he sat alone in confusion and fear. The young lad couldn't remember who he was, or what he was doing there. All he knew was that his head hurt as if it had been cracked wide open. He was deathly cold. His torn, ivory clothing was soaked. Like any other lost scared child with a splitting headache, he had cried without end,barely able to breathe through the sobs, but that had been days ago.

He was tired of crying. He wanted the clarity of knowing who he is and where he comes from. He knelt down and moved his hands across the rocky floor searching for something. He stopped when he felt singed tree branches and logs. He half smiled and said

“There you are.” He grabbed one of the thicker branches and shaped it to his likings with his fingernails like knives. He rubbed the branch against the log until the smell of smoke and pine filled his nostrils. The boy quickly cupped his hands over the heat and blew on it slowly until it grew into a small flame. Light and warmth filled the small corner of the cave as it flickered, revealing the boys features in the dark.

His eyes, hazel were sunken in with dark circles. His shoulder length hair brunette, and messy. He wore weather worn ivory rags. His skin tone, a light brown tan. His ears were long, and thin. As he listened to the rain echo within the cave, he rubbed his empty stomach With heavy half closed eyes and thought might as well eat something. The nameless boy searched the cave’s cold walls for moss. After mere moments he had found patches where he had been scraping it off with his sharp nails. After gathering the spongy vegetation, he squinted as he sniffed it.

He groaned as he shut his eyes tightly. The boy crinkled his nose, and shoved the moss into his mouth and swallowed it as quickly as he could, hoping not to taste it for more than a second or two. He sat back down on the patchy stone. He doubled over as the moss started to make his gut hurt. He burped loudly nearly regurgitating the unsatisfying plants He tasted it again near the back of his throat. After he was sure he could keep it down, he picked up a rock and began to fiddle with it. He sighed, impatient for the red sun to rise. His vision at night was just as good as it was during the day. However, the thought exploring during the night was a bad idea. But most of all it was unsettling for him.

He knew there were other creatures. Creatures with night vision far bigger than he was. For the boy, something inside told him that alone, he wouldn't stand a chance. He was as frightened of them as they were of him. Walking during the day made him feel safer. He hoped that by exploring this lush green forest he would remember where he was. He knew it was a long shot, but he was optimistic about coming into contact with someone who knew him, or a place where he lived.

Going out would at least help clear his mind. The boy dropped the upper half of his body on the damp course ground and ruffled his hair in frustration. The cave walls trembled as he struck the ground with the back his fist. Droplets of water hit his face.  He screamed out

“Who the hell am I!?” The boy stretched out his right index finger and jabbed his forehead with it. It didn’t matter that it worsened his headache. It was all he could do to keep from kicking and screaming or hurting himself. Again. He couldn’t remember a damn thing.He needed something to jog his memory. Then it hit him.His head throbbed. His eyes turned from a dark hazel to bright gold with black pupils. He stood, shaking. He couldn't control his breathing. The cave seemed to spin. He clutched his head and screamed as he fell. He rolled on the ground.He felt as though something was carving it’s way into his skull. Tears streamed down his face as he screamed himself hoarse. A feminine voiced pealed in the confines of his mind. The mental intruder spoke with amusement.

Poor boy, I’ve been watching you for some time. Do you really want to know who you are? boy? Roku continued to scream from the pain of the intrusive voice in his head. She said Well then. I’ll take that as a yes. Now. Let us show you.  Fragmented memories surfaced.

His vision blurred from shock. He felt like a stranger looking through someone else's eyes, experiencing all that he or she was. No longer could he smell the natural scents of river water, moss and dirt. He was overcome by the smell of chemicals.that burned his nose He opened his eyes At first, he could only see blurred images.

When his vision cleared, he found himself in an ivory colored room. The walls pulsed with an iridescent glow. The walls were as smooth as water -washed stone. In one corner, there were blocks of different sizes and colors. There was a wooden sword laying across a few of the blocks. It seemed familiar to him, but he didn’t know why. Asoft cry came from the other side of the room.

As he turned, his eyes widened. Mascara ran in a black stream down the face of a crying woman who shook violently as she cried out in terror and ran towards him away from a fast approaching fire. He wanted to help her, but he was a child. What could he do? He stumbled on one of the blocks as he walked toward her. Her head snapped up and her eyes flashed with fear. He flinched when she tried to speak. In a cracked voice, she pleaded:

“ROKU! YOU MUST RUN! O-LIN CAN’T HAVE YOU, I WON'T LET THEM KILL MY BABY BOY...RUN!” He didn’t think twice as he ran away from the scared woman. His mouth uttered the words,

“Mommy, come on!” He was confused, but scared for his life. The urge to turn around and run back to her tormented him.  A scream of terror hurt his ears, interrupting his train of thought. His heart skipped a beat. His feet continued to carry him to the end of the white stone hallway. As he turned to go down the spiral stones steps, he heard a thunderous explosion.

“Mommy!”

Something struck the back of his head. He thought he heard his skullcrack. The force threw the boy off his feet and out a nearby window. He looked down to see the fierce waves of the river below. Before he passed out, he heard:

“ROKU!”

He snapped back to reality. His head felt like it was on fire. He was sprawled on the ground with drool crusted on the right side of his face. Sun light stung his eyes. The boy jerked straight up and felt the back of his head.He panted, wondering what he had just experienced. Finally catching his bearings he

How long was I out? A cool morning breeze flowed around him.He remembered one thing.

“My name... is Roku?” He stopped thinking as a vein in his temple throbbed causing a second wave of pain to wash over him. His cry of pain echoed across the walls. Birds of all shapes and colors in the nearby trees took flight. The cry stretched on for miles. In the distance, in a far off tree, two sets of blood red glowing eyes peered into the dark. A flock of enormous blue and yellow striped birds flew by One set of glowing orbs looked up as they approached, unaware of the predator in the branches of the old tree.

With incredible speed a massive clawed arm grabbed one of the flying creatures The bird struggled and screeched in terror as it was dragged into the tree. The rest of the flock scattered from the oak. The bird's flailing shook leaves to the ground. The predator silenced it with its teeth. Bones snapped as feathers and blood stained the grass. A haunting voice asked,

“Are you done?” A man dropped from the tree, covered by shadow appearing as a large beast like silhouette. He vigorously licked the slain bird's blood from his fingers while staring at the blood stain on the grass. He soon shrank down to a smaller form and said in a bored tone,

“Yes. Brother”

“Are you ready for the real hunt?” The man tilted his head up. Half turning, he looked over his shoulder towards the red eyes that leered at him. Moonlight broke through the clouds and shone on half of his blood smeared,brown skinned face. The side of his face that was revealed by the light had shown a single hazel eye. His left eye that was still covered by the darkness of the night glowed bright red.  The man said with a satanic grin and an elated deep voice.

“YES. Brother”

That's it. If you want more let me know.

Episode 3: Revenge Of The Art

What? Did you think I was done talking about my time at Academy Of Art? No. Did you think that I'm slightly freaked out to talk shit about an organization that I owe thousands of dollars to but haven't given a cent? No. Oh, wait... The answer to that one is yes. It's a little terrifying. To me, and my non-existent credit.
     Anyway, let's get back on track. That experience of just my first week was, for me overwhelming. I didn't understand why my friend said it was soul crushing until then. I think it was made even worse by the fact that for one of my classes, I was missing EVERYTHING. So I never went. The real kicker is that I found out that they had a store on the inside that sales you everything in a kit. Fuck me. I tried to buy all my supplies for these classes at different art stores but could never find the crap I needed for this one specific class, and it turns out these guys were just selling it... I didn't even want to take this class. Why? Because it was fucking sculpting. I would like for someone to bust out their handy dandy spyglass, and find the lettering's for 'Illustrator' in the word 'Sculptor.'
     Couldn't find it? Good. Guess that means I'm not crazy. So I was dropped from that class. I did okay in two of my other classes, and very well in another. Which had nothing to do with me using a motherfucking pencil, because it was digital media. Can you believe that? I'm going to school for drawing, and the thing I improve on is Photoshop. Don't get me wrong. I know that is important for all artist in this day, and age who want to do anything real with their art in the professional space. But still it just pisses me off that I improved less with my actual drawing ability and did well in this. Soon after that, my basic shadings teacher, and shapes teacher told me that my tardiness and absentees earned me an automatic fail.
     So after that I shut down and stopped going to everything except for digital M. My semester ended, And it felt like one step forward, and two steps back. I tried to pick it back up, but those damn FAFSA problems showed up again. It honestly could have just been me, but I doubt it. Even my friend Nick stopped going. Granted he tried for a lot longer, But his drive for art was being snuffed, and the nail in the coffin was when he got fucking Mono. It was so bad that he had to stay in his house for like six months. And if I'm going to dig into my memory my other friend, turned girlfriend, turned ex, turned friend again, Had gone there as well and experienced the same thing. So you tell me.
     I tried to figure out where I stood in the world after that, and I'm still trying to figure this shit out right now as I type these fucking words, but anyway. I applied to place to place. Always got the same old thing. "Sorry, but were looking for candidates with employment experience." I understood the first few times, but every time after that Pissed me off, makes me mad, irks me, it just ticks me off. Especially when you manage to get an interview, and they say it in my face after I go down there all nervous, and freaking out. To have to hear you say "Sorry, but were looking for candidates with employment experience." Makes me want to say "No shit numb nuts. I want to give you the experience you crave, but can't get it because dick stains like you won't give me the work experience I need in order to work for you. You fucking thunder cunted, jizz drinking, great grandmother fucker you!" Oh, I'm sorry. Did I seem upset? Well, fucking good. The working world pisses me off. And fuck you BestBuy, Target, and whatever that fucking paint store is that my dad worked at, and every other place I applied to.
     So let's put a smile on and continue with the story. After that, I was told about security jobs, and how much they pay. I think to myself. Kennan, that's a great fucking idea. Go for that. I mean it's a sure fire thing. You'll be paid fairly well. You know. For someone your age and best of all, you will be making more money than you're friends that are slowly finding jobs, and be able to silently stroke your ego. I even thought that if I got a security job. I could save money, and get all the necessities for a food truck or something like that, and go on a joint business venture with my dad and brother. So I spend the money needed to take the class, get the guard card, etc. And begin applying to more places with wide-eyed wonder.
     To my surprise, I just end up getting the same old shit. It's the type of thing that makes you wonder. Why am I here? Am I just a waste of space? Would it be better for everyone if I weren't even here? Not made better by the fact that my mother started losing her patients and saying shit like "You're not trying." "When I die. You will be fucked." And things of that nature. It's hard to argue those things too because I didn't have much to show or prove any different. So I tried other things that might work, or at least make me feel like I was something. Like YouTube. I liked the idea of putting out whatever you want, and maybe getting some views from people that like your stuff. So my ex and I came up with a kick ass idea.
 We were going to start off by reviewing cartoons we loved growing up that got canceled, even tho people loved them, and to this day still do. We planned to have this whole Kingdom Hearts theme going on as well. Our first cartoon was going to be Danny Phantom. You remember that show? It was great. A kid with ghost powers that was the hero in his town. Had a real Spider-Man vibe going on.
     Took all this time, and did all this research on it. I bought the entire series. Looked up tips for new YouTubers, and we started writing a script. A funny one too if I say so myself for what it was. But then my G.F got finicky, and just kind of dropped it. I love that girl, but follow through always seemed to be an issue at times. But to her credit she is employed while I'm writing this. So anyway I did some soul searching. Talked to a good friend of mine (Who after thinking about it. Is diffidently one of my best friends) about legacy, and what we leave behind in this world. Two things became clear to me. I want to leave behind something big, And I want my own family one day. A boy and a girl. Also, I wanted a career that could do more than support that family but live the good life, because I was born and raised to think that way. I remembered why I liked to draw, and it all came back to my characters I created in high school, and the worlds, and situations I placed for them. It became clear to me.
     I had to get my stories out there no matter what. I remembered back in school that I had a skill for writing. Granted a little unrefined, but it was there. The want to etch my name in the history of nerdy culture, and showing up at cons with my own booth would be my drive. The thought that I am far from nothing. I could prove my worth. It all pushed me to that. It got a little rocky. I still got words of discouragement, and as this goes up, I am still working on my manuscript of around 93,000 words, and still going, and my GF left me at a point where I really needed someone to stick it out with me (But I don't blame her.) But to hell with all of it. I'll keep this train going, and achieve my goals that I have been working on for two years now.

         So yeah, longer than I expected. As, like before, if anyone wants to read. You are free to. I would like to connect with you all out there. So comment if you want.                

Episode 2: What The Hell Am I Doing?

     Episode two huh? Where to go from here? Well, I guess I can move into how I got here. Let's say that After my schooling, I knew what I wanted to do. Go to Academy of Art University, and work on mastering illustration. It was perfect. I would go there, and eventually get an internship at a company like Marvel Comics, D.C, or Image Comics. I would use all that I learned there, and eventually get a job at one of those glories companies. It was a great plan that me, and my friend Nick had. Well, you can guess how this goes... Completely to shit.
     We were supposed to go at the same time so that neither of us went in without a friend. Naturally he gets in just fine, and I don't because I can't get my shit together with FAFSA. Or better yet, I couldn't get my mom to get her shit together so can finish the last few important steps for FAFSA. So I end up going in the next semester. It was fucking horrifying. I'm not even kidding here. For me, and my friend this place was hell. The type of hell that takes a red hot fork, and sticks it up your butthole, and straight to your soul while twisting it.
     The big tip off for me should have been when these guys tell you about how perfect it is. They tour you around all these great locations they own in the city, and these grandiose classrooms that you will be going to. They then stick you in a room with a hot girl. (At least they did with me) That looks professional, and whispers sweet nothings in your ear like "You can take an English class that is centered around comic book dialog. At this point, you jizzed your jeans. You then at some point go to orientation in a massive, beautiful auditorium. The person in charge talks to everyone there as an artist, and how amazing it is that we are who we are. She then lays out the smooth pimp talk about how everyone who has secretly drawn in their books while they should have been working in class has just now come to the place that they belong. Home.
     Do you hear that? Do you feel it? Not sure what just happened? Well, let me explain what just happened to you. Academy Of Art has at this point. Reached its hand deep into the portal that is your brain. Traveled through it. Reached the other side, which is your parent's wallets. And ordered it to grab its ankles while getting fucked hard, fast, and without the lube. Didn't even have the decency to give that delicate piece of cow hide cab money. Now this is your first day of school. You go on this nice bus. Like really nice. Nicer than anything Muni will ever have. And you can tell just by looking at people around you what their major is. But hears the only one that will matter that you will even care about.
     All the hot girls that look like they could be on t.v all have a major in fashion. (I asked)  The reclusive guys, and girls in hoddies are in a major like illustration or anything similar to that. You now get to class via the nice bus, and here you discover grimly that classes are boring. You learned most of this stuff in high school art class. (provided that your art teacher was as cool as mine was) The strange seats hurt your ass.
The classes you wanted that the hot woman told you about won't come until years down the line (For classes that cost you three times as much as regular college courses) and worst of all. Almost everyone there sitting near you is better at illustration than you are. This whole thing goes on continuously until it crushes your soul, and makes you think your art is shit, and you ask yourself a hard question. "What the hell am I doing?"

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Pilot Episode

   Oh, gee fucking whiz! It's my first blog! Well okay, maybe not my first one. But it is the first that I care about, so what? Do you want to know about me? As my first fan! Well, great voice in my head! Let me tell you a little something something about me. I'm a slightly (extremely) narcissistic heavy-set African-American San Franciscan. Although If you were to ask my friends. They would tell you that I am an Oreo... Not even the regular one. The special one, with the yellow filling. If I had to guess, it would probably be because of all the comics, manga, anime, and things of that nature I obsessively watch on a day to day basis.
      A little racist? Sadly yes. But hey Facebook told me the same thing when I took the "what kind of Asian are you." Test. I'm getting off topic. I daydream a lot, and I have a skill for writing and an aptitude for talking shit. I never used these things as I scraped by in high school by the skin of my backside because I was shy and did very little to achieve my goals. Besides writing, I can draw, cook, sing (on a full moon) and come up with characters, worlds, and stories that I think would make Square Enix blush. Now I hear you say
      "But Keenan. If you can do these things, surely you must be doing well in collage, or have a job." And to that I number one: laugh at you historically while sobbing.
Number two, Say fuck you. (In that we have been friends for years kind of way. So your reaction is just to backhand my balls when I'm not paying attention, and we go out for beer with the rest of the guys and gals.
Number three: I say ah man pass me a fireball whiskey. Because I've got a story for you, that requires that I drink first.
     But for now, I don't have that drink, and therefore not drunk enough to tell it. But for sure on another day in another blog.

    Would love to comments so do so if you like, and please share with others.

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