They say the morning is when inspiration comes

andres256

December 11th, 11:50

Maybe you slam back a cup of black hot coffee. Maybe you shower the morning away only to realize you're drowned in inspiration.
That coffee smacking you up and down. The coffee surging through your core. Not your abs but through your being.
An egg smells in the morning. The grease sizzles pops and otherwise heats the black pan. Music blares super loud through your Seinhauser headphones.Lyrics blow through your ears at a very high decibel.
This is inspiration. This is the smell of the morning.
Fuck!
You remember you're not a morning person.
Let's start. Your brain tells you.

Last night or the night before I had a dream. This seems like a re-occuring dream. It takes place outside someone's house. Way, way, way, high up on a  hill. The immersion is very palpable. My best friend Jon Montoya is in the dream. There is a white and very made out white house. So new that it looks like it has been there just today. There is a crazy fucking guy that is Russian. He screams something and throws out a sandwich ball. Except, it is privy to whatever Russians eat. He hurls it out of the window and the bread and lettuce and whatever meat blast the pavement. Like an egg that has been thrown on the ground. Next is a car pulls up but no one gets up. It is my car and I can clearly see over the hill. Next, oh next, is me running through someone's house but making it to the living room. Then running away out to the front door. Except, that goddamn door is fucking locked. I hear footsteps and can't really move. Someone is home. I don't hear screams or shouts but a person's voice. Then I am transported outside near my friend and I yell "We need to get down there."
The dream ends.
What in the fuck? Twice, I have had this dream. There is no conclusion for it. It freaks me out. No violence just a weird russian with a sandwich ball. Just a door I can't open. "We need to go down there."
What does it mean?
Is there something in my life I can't fucking open.Who is the Russian man? Is there some Russian person that holds uber significance? Is he warning me buy throwing his sandwich ball out of his window? Is he trying to tell me to learn some Russian.
I am not sure but it is madness and it is beyond

-V

Don't fall into a writing lul

Don’t fall into a writing lul

Posted on November 13, 2013by andres256

I find myself right now trying to worry about my backlog shows I am going to finish.

Yet, that’s not what I should be focusing on. I should concentrate my worth and efforts on my musical. I can’t write the rest of my book unless I get to Florida. And right now I need to plan that damn trip.

This musical is tough to write. I need to power through it and whoop its ass.

The only way to write is to go out and do it. Although, I have heard that setting goals is a good way to write.

I have never set any writing goals really. I just write when it is pertinen

You don't have enough candy?

You fucking fail.

You don't have enough candy.

You suck.

Or do you?

Well in this case you do.

Anyway, who doesn't buy enough candy for Trick or Treaters? My parents.
My mom is kinda a stooge when it comes to candy or fun. She seems to think that because she hates Halloween she will let it seethe into the rest of us.
Not fucking I. No fucking way.

Halloween is a time to have fun. It is made and designed to dress up and goof off. I guess it is made for the dullards to get drunk and party too. I was once a dullard of sorts. I mean partying is fun but can get tiring. Dressing up is a goddamn blast and as such should be included in the word fun.

Therefore, don't under prepare for Halloween. Even if you're diabetic like someone I know. Mr. P is diabetic but he's also chinsy. He has the attitude of only buying enough food or in our case enough candy.

Sure, candy is getting pricier but for the love of god Halloween happens once a year. Splurge just a little bit and make this fucking Halloween great, make it spooky, go to a haunted house, corn maze or anything else.
Bottom line is have fun.
Don't cheat out Trick or Treaters.
You were once one, weren't you?

Thanks!

Being Patrick Roy

Suddenly, I was talking with one of the greatest goalies of all time.
This was a dream and I was in it.

I was near where the players go on and off the ice. Alas, I was a goalie in full goalie gear and everything. I had about a ten minute conversation with one Patrick Roy. I asked Roy what he thought I  could work on.
He basically said  "You're not seeing the puck with your eyes, look with your  eyes." And I asked him what that all meant and I idled off to a different conversation. We talked about how damn dangerous the Pens were and how good the rest of the league was. We talked about Giguere and Varlamov but he said he really like Mckinnion.

....And of all the weirdest things there was a door that shined light in. It was angellic-type light but it was odd because there was green, green, green grass outside the door. It was really close to the door and unnaturally green.
I soon woke up because my mom was yelling.

Wow!
I am glad nothing else wacky happened like a clown throwing pies out of a blimp.

I think I could thunk

I dreamed of a simplier time.
A time whilst the wind blew and I was carried off on a parasol. Maybe not one of those but a fucking Marry Poppin umbrella with jet boosters of course.
Because after all having propolusion is indicative of flight.
Therfore, I'd sit in a chair pondering the idea of flight. Not the Wright Brothers or the Wrong Brothers but no one.
It'd be an ascent if there is a word like that to the golden heavens. It'd be a lift-off of immense force that would propell me fully skyward. Not Skyward Sword but skyward into the deep stratosphere.
I guess that means a breathing apparatus is dully required. For if it is not then I'd die.
How simple could a time be? As the wind blew and the propolusion spattered away the wind was the wind and the flying craft was obedient. How could a craft be obedient? Nay, it did not have a master but the craft was powered by telekentic-touch. And thus when the craft was powered the jets burst downward like water fire. The whirring and the whinning would mean that is working with full power. And thus it would need a silver and elongated power tube. Another item it would need is a fuel gauge. You can't get to the stratosphere on good looks.
Up!
Up!
Up!
Whoosh!
Higher!
This is what the craft would do is just climb and climb. Then it would just hover above the barren lands and stay stagnant. It would just chill. It would just quiet . The engine if it had one would hum very easily along. The rays of light would hit the craft with immense beautifull golden shots of light. It would dawn on the foremost part of the craft. It would reflect me. It would reflect the simplier times.
....and then without warning some complicated ooze would forever climb to the top of the whitest marble tower. It would slime its way up the tower and fight its way to the craft. Somehow without warning it would attack the craft and extend itself towards it. It at this time had engulfed the tinged gray and beautifully decked out steel craft. Then the blackish-purple-brown ooze would cover all the craft in complications.
Therfore, somehow the craft was not a simple craft anymore. The ooze dripped off the beautifully crested craft and fell to the earth. Now and only now it was uber complicated. It had a breathing apparatus on the top. It had a plethora of colors other than silver or gray. It had 20 propulsion systems all tethered together.
It even had an engugorgarius-capicator on the rind. In the middle were complicated computer and calculator buttons. An HD display was presented on the front. The craft's transformation was more than I thought, or could have thought.
Did I want a simple time or a complicated time where overthoughts are better than underthoughts. Where calculations were not freeing but constricting much to that of an exotic purple boa. Did I want a time where black and grey coincided?
I am not sure what I wanted.
All, I knew is it was here.
_V


I love to write and make up a lot of stuff. I just write to practice. I feel that this helps me.

On a side note I am excited for Destiny. I am not sure what to think about Phantom Pain.
And what's this I hear about coming home or the adventure game when you're in a house.
Either way game on!

Consuming the harvest

Consuming the harvest

Posted on August 27, 2013 by andres256

Consuming the harvest was not based on conservation.
The locust ate at night. They fed on the dead that had come to past.
Balance was highly unnecessary for the dead black fields provided no comfort.
Barren as they were blackened flowers only wilted to the sound of darkened drums.
Skeletons marched on the marsh as they witnessed souls being stolen from the graven earth.
“Fear the locust.” the commoners cried as blackness drooped from all corners of the earth.
Little children in dirty blue suspenders would clamber down the dilapidated broken white steps. This was Arabic marble and had been glossed over with a silver sheen. The sheen kicked up the reflection of the dirty children with the blue suspenders.
The  meaty stench filled the air as the skeletons walked forward. There were no screams only heavy purple fog that blanketed the western front…

Is it really right for your parents to bitch at you for all eternity

I am really getting sick of my parent's bitching.

I mean what the fuck. Saying things like retirement is around the corner.

Oh that time frame is around three years allegedly.

Then I remember I am outta school in the real world. A world where shit hits the fan a million miles a second. A time where statistics make up the majority of nasty unemployment.

Did you know 24+ year olds have a 24% unemployment rate?http://money.cnn.com/2013/06/25/news/economy/malemployment-rate/index.html My bad that shit says fucking 36%.

How is this not a problem that government can't fucking remedy? I am sure this has been written a billion times.  Let's look at again.

I am a recent graduate just like the other people taking jobs at Starbuck's and other fucking places like that. Sure, Starbucks is maybe a decent place to work but where the FUCK did you get your degree. Weren't you a journalism major, nursing major, law student.
This has gotten goddamn ridiculous.

Nobody has any accountability. No organization is going to make jobs or the place that makes them doesn't exist. We are getting fucked by loans, taxes, and other shit. Although, for now we can take out the tax element ...because I don't work.

It'd be one thing if I threw in the towel and said I never looked for a job. I have applied a small amount. I have applied for maybe 37 jobs. That's nothing compared to the whopping 100 my brother applied to.  I mean the deepest in the job process I got was three interviews. It looked promising but something wasn't right and these bastards wouldn't tell you. The people of a company Ethos seemed to make a legit job posting. Although, like the movie Eraserhead everything looked good but there was a nasty undertone under it all. That seemed to be after the third interview that I was lied to. I guess this should be a great term in real life. In the real world people do conniving things, they will trample you to run to the top. Although, lying is something they must pride themselves on. It was a fucking door-to-door job. I didn't get a bachelors to be subjugated to door-to-door shit. So I did the smart thing and denied the job.

Although, I smashed every interview. It is sad that a company that seems great is crooked.

That's the real world. Although, I still believe in good people in this world it has been negative. The year getting out of school has been more than rough. I got outta college and it was a great time.

But now....shit a comet could hit and be better than the agonizing suffering that is this poor excuse for an economy. So who makes the jobs?

Let's see:

I have no idea. If it isn't the government maybe it is an elf or some shit, Clearly, this economy reflects  the poor times.

I am just happy to write. It gives me an outlet to vent. I tried to make it sensible.

My worries are basic:

Food

Shelter

Eventually a place to live

Video games is a necessity to me...lol

JOBS!!

I'll put jobs on the third rank. Jobs are important for guys and gals like me. I am not falling on entitlement but I can't stand here idly when we are getting dicked from everything. I was already dicked by my uni. There has to be some semblance of not getting screwed somewhere. A safe haven.

Thanks for reading.

It means a great deal even though my tone is not somber and very fiery.

Thank you David Lynch!