StorytellersOne day I will be done with college and I'll be on a team of witty artists all dedicated to one cause; we'll be entertaining people with computers! One of the greatest gifts mankind has offered to itself, since the dawn of its creation, has been storytelling. Cave paintings and folklore as old as the constellations in the sky have given rise to morals and art, forever imbuing mankind with a culture to pass on to tomorrow's children. Today is no different, as mankind strives to tell stories. Entertaining has become ever more important with the rise of Hollywood and its aid from computers. One day I hope to entertain the world with computer animation. I hope to make children laugh throughout their growing years and help the adults remember their own as time and culture continue to pass the world by.
A Walking LessonA Walking LessonWhen I was three, my brother, Ferg, and I discovered a bowl of pudding in the fridge. I did not eat it though. This was because he kindly informed me it was "poop" and took it for himself, only to blame the missing treat on me despite chocolate covering his face. It was a cunning try, foiled by his six-year-old senselessness that has carried with him into adulthood. This same foolishness taught me much. He's brilliant, but irresponsible; talented, but careless. He is an electrical genius that threw his good sense away for the sake of partying with his friends. I have often found him at midnight, walking around (stumbling) or sleeping on the floor after a long night of fun. He has become the butt of many jokes because of his reckless antics, but I know deep down what he could have been if he would have tried. This has inspired me to always keep my wits about me.
SilverPrism: Writer's UtensilIs it a bad thing to be a pen? For a pen is much like me. Generally they are slender, and they have as many different colors as I have moods. Each color is part of me: Black for the periods of mystery and depression; Blue for always wanting truth and my strife to reach my soul; Red for warthful anger, love, and pain; Purple for the alternative thinking; Green for always trying to grow beyond the confines of this existence; and so on. We both have a mortal existence, for a pen is only as useful as long as it has ink. The ink is the blood of the being that is a pen, when the blood runs out the pen dies and must be buried in the trash. Weh my body ceases to take breath I too will die and be buried in the earth, the trash of the centuries.- Michael RomaineANdress High School Literary Magazine 2001-2002
Virangelus - an excerptAgain.. you steal my work I will hunt you down, slit your throat, and sue your family, and if you steal this peice it's already been published in a book so I'll be MORE than happy to take your life away Enjoy.... not like anybody is gonna understand that damn thing anyways.. here goes.... Virangelus.Sorry for any lack of punctuation... I blame it on the site. You want to see how it's really written in a .doc or .rtf, devnote me.Chapter 1:It Began with Whispers in the Dark"What is a legend?""Is it to be told?""Is it just to be known?""Maybe just a story.""Or maybe it's something more.""Is it just for the memory of the night's sky of fallen embers?" The whispers paused in the dark, waiting for the unknown end of their eternity, though why one knew not. They were speaking there in the enigmatic crucible of darkness but the voyeur of these dreary dreams could tell that although this world was empty, it was all the while full. Full with the notions and feeli