Sunday, November 16, 2008

To Write Love On Her Arms

Please be warned: Reader disgression advised TO WRITE LOVE ON HER ARMS by Jamie Tworkowski


Pedro the Lion is loud in the speakers, and the city waits just outside our open windows. She sits and sings, legs crossed in the passenger seat, her pretty voice hiding in the volume. Music is a safe place and Pedro is her favorite. It hits me that she won't see this skyline for several weeks, and we will be without her. I lean forward, knowing this will be written, and I ask what she'd say if her story had an audience. She smiles. "Tell them to look up. Tell them to remember the stars."


I would rather write her a song, because songs don't wait to resolve, and because songs mean so much to her. Stories wait for endings, but songs are brave things bold enough to sing when all they know is darkness. These words, like most words, will be written next to midnight, between hurricane and harbor, as both claim to save her.


Renee is 19. When I meet her, cocaine is fresh in her system. She hasn't slept in 36 hours and she won't for another 24. It is a familiar blur of coke, pot, pills and alcohol. She has agreed to meet us, to listen and to let us pray. We ask Renee to come with us, to leave this broken night. She says she'll go to rehab tomorrow, but she isn't ready now. It is too great a change. We pray and say goodbye and it is hard to leave without her.


She has known such great pain; haunted dreams as a child, the near-constant presence of evil ever since. She has felt the touch of awful naked men, battled depression and addiction, and attempted suicide. Her arms remember razor blades, fifty scars that speak of self-inflicted wounds. Six hours after I meet her, she is feeling trapped, two groups of "friends" offering opposite ideas. Everyone is asleep. The sun is rising. She drinks long from a bottle of liquor, takes a razor blade from the table and locks herself in the bathroom. She cuts herself, using the blade to write "F--- UP" large across her left forearm.


The nurse at the treatment center finds the wound several hours later. The center has no detox, names her too great a risk, and does not accept her. For the next five days, she is ours to love. We become her hospital and the possibility of healing fills our living room with life. It is unspoken and there are only a few of us, but we will be her church, the body of Christ coming alive to meet her needs, to write love on her arms.
She is full of contrast, more alive and closer to death than anyone I've known, like a Johnny Cash song or some theatre star. She owns attitude and humor beyond her 19 years, and when she tells me her story, she is humble and quiet and kind, shaped by the pain of a hundred lifetimes. I sit privileged but breaking as she shares. Her life has been so dark yet there is some soft hope in her words, and on consecutive evenings, I watch the prettiest girls in the room tell her that she's beautiful. I think it's God reminding her.


I've never walked this road, but I decide that if we're going to run a five-day rehab, it is going to be the coolest in the country. It is going to be rock and roll. We start with the basics; lots of fun, too much Starbucks and way too many cigarettes.


Thursday night she is in the balcony for Band Marino, Orlando's finest. They are indie-folk-fabulous, a movement disguised as a circus. She loves them and she smiles when I point out the A&R man from Atlantic Europe, in town from London just to catch this show.


She is in good seats when the Magic beat the Sonics the next night, screaming like a lifelong fan with every Dwight Howard dunk. On the way home, we stop for more coffee and books, Blue Like Jazz and (Anne Lamott's) Travelling Mercies.


On Saturday, the Taste of Chaos tour is in town and I'm not even sure we can get in, but doors do open and minutes after parking, we are on stage for Thrice, one of her favorite bands. She stands ten feet from the drummer, smiling constantly. It is a bright moment there in the music, as light and rain collide above the stage. It feels like healing. It is certainly hope.


Sunday night is church and many gather after the service to pray for Renee, this her last night before entering rehab. Some are strangers but all are friends tonight. The prayers move from broken to bold, all encouraging. We're talking to God but I think as much, we're talking to her, telling her she's loved, saying she does not go alone. One among us knows her best. Ryan sits in the corner strumming an acoustic guitar, singing songs she's inspired.


After church our house fills with friends, there for a few more moments before goodbye. Everyone has some gift for her, some note or hug or piece of encouragement. She pulls me aside and tells me she would like to give me something. I smile surprised, wondering what it could be. We walk through the crowded living room, to the garage and her stuff.


She hands me her last razor blade, tells me it is the one she used to cut her arm and her last lines of cocaine five nights before. She's had it with her ever since, shares that tonight will be the hardest night and she shouldn't have it. I hold it carefully, thank her and know instantly that this moment, this gift, will stay with me. It hits me to wonder if this great feeling is what Christ knows when we surrender our broken hearts, when we trade death for life.


As we arrive at the treatment center, she finishes: "The stars are always there but we miss them in the dirt and clouds. We miss them in the storms. Tell them to remember hope. We have hope."


I have watched life come back to her, and it has been a privilege. When our time with her began, someone suggested shifts but that is the language of business. Love is something better. I have been challenged and changed, reminded that love is that simple answer to so many of our hardest questions. Don Miller says we're called to hold our hands against the wounds of a broken world, to stop the bleeding. I agree so greatly.
We often ask God to show up. We pray prayers of rescue. Perhaps God would ask us to be that rescue, to be His body, to move for things that matter. He is not invisible when we come alive. I might be simple but more and more, I believe God works in love, speaks in love, is revealed in our love. I have seen that this week and honestly, it has been simple: Take a broken girl, treat her like a famous princess, give her the best seats in the house. Buy her coffee and cigarettes for the coming down, books and bathroom things for the days ahead. Tell her something true when all she's known are lies. Tell her God loves her. Tell her about forgiveness, the possibility of freedom, tell her she was made to dance in white dresses.

All these things are true.


We are only asked to love, to offer hope to the many hopeless. We don't get to choose all the endings, but we are asked to play the rescuers. We won't solve all mysteries and our hearts will certainly break in such a vulnerable life, but it is the best way. We were made to be lovers bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we're called home.


I have learned so much in one week with one brave girl. She is alive now, in the patience and safety of rehab, covered in marks of madness but choosing to believe that God makes things new, that He meant hope and healing in the stars. She would ask you to remember.



"Tell them to look up. Tell them to remember the stars." And we will Renee, we will.

Monday, October 27, 2008

Another Cold Houston Winter

Looks like another cold Houston Winter...


Wait? Did I just say another?


And what's this cold I speak of?


I walked outside and was shocked to find...its cold! Wow its been a while...I think right now, more than ever I wish I was in San Antonio again.

Friday, October 24, 2008

20/20 Surgery

I think that I had started to think I wouldn't every meet anyone with whom I could actually have a real relationship with. My day to day activities have made it hard for me to meet anyone who shares the same interests as me and it seems that there aren't places that the poeple I would like to talk to go. They're sure as Hell not in clubs or out at bars for the most part. And while I can have fun at those places...its an empty shallow kind of fun; the same kind I get from eating good Chinese Food or playing Tetris.



It's not going to fulfill any major need...its just a small fix to a bigger problem.



The people I have met that I think I could actually date or would care to spend time with are either too far away or very hard to get hold of and usually busy. Meeting new people would be the normal course of action here. But where do people like me like to go?



Its really a moot point, in my current condition I couldn't see myself venturing out in the first place.



There is a funny thing though, about regrets. I can look back over the past several years and point out the mistakes I made and the things I could have done differently and possibly changed several things at once. It's weird to think about, but then I know some of them would have changed so many other things and I wonder if its worth it to have taken those chances and taken a different branch in that fork in the road.



I guess the only thing that we can learn is to take more risks...I think I am understanding that more and more.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

My Drug

That's it, it seems I am addicted to online forum role plays. I guess its not a bad thing, as it helps me write. But if anyone else has this little addiction. Please let me know.

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Atheist Advert Bus Campaign

An ad campaign for atheism has started in Great Britain. They will advertise on the sides of buses in the capital city of London. The ads, which look like this:





What bothers me most about this is the word "probably" in the ad...its like if you want to go all out, go all out.



This article was found on a forum site, where another user said this about it:



The atheist bus campaign launches today thanks to Comment is free readers. Because of your enthusiastic response to the idea of a reassuring God-free advert being used to counter religious advertising, the slogan "There's probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life" could now become an ad campaign on London buses – and leading secularists have jumped on board to help us raise the money.


The British Humanist Association will be administering all donations to the campaign, and Professor Richard Dawkins, bestselling author of The God Delusion, has generously agreed to match all contributions up to a maximum of £5,500, giving us a total of £11,000 if we raise the full amount. This will be enough to fund two sets of atheist adverts on 30 London buses for four weeks.


LINK

Well if this constitutes advertising...why not something like this on the side of a bus:



...Even If It Kills Me

Well this is me getting back into the swing of things. I have made the choice that I want to write in a blog again, that is I want my blog to be a big part of my daily life or at least semi daily life. They don't have to be super long entries, but they have to be long enough.



I've been working more on honing my writing skills than anything else lately, but I am in school and really trying this time to get some serious work done. Other little distractions have popped up though to kind of take my mind off the school thing. I tend to have trouble concentrating on my writing and school work when I am under certain kinds of stress.



I think I miss having people around me that I could just walk out my door and go to visit. The apartments I live in right now don't lend me to the type of people I usually hang out with or any way to connect with the people here. And after my stint at my last job, I have becoming untrusting of others for the reason that they really can't be trusted.



Sure my core friends have stuck around and I have even sought out some of the older ones to bring them back into the inner circle but none of them are near enough that I can just go to them to feel a little less alone. One person in particular that I met a little less than a year ago has become a profound friend and been a big help for me in the way of moral and emotional support.



I have to post a little quote, its a little something from a song:



"I’m not saying that I’m giving up, I’m just trying not to think as much as I used to. Cause "never" is a lonely little messed up word. Maybe I’ll get it right some day. For the first time in a long time I can say that I want to try. I feel helpless for the most part but I’m learning to open my eyes and the sad truth of the matter is I’ll never get over it, but I’m gonna try to get better and overcome each moment in my own way." —Motion City Soundtrack

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Wall of Weird

In the world of blogging I ma kind old school. Not as old school as being like, pen and paper...but old school in the way that I had a xanga and a live journal account...back when they were cool. Now the thing is, I don't say this to brag, in fact I am kind of embarassed by all of this. But when I first found out about blogger, I moved to it.



I guess that's where the trend ends.



Fast forward a few years to the rise of You Tube and with it the video blogger. I have never done it, never even used a webcam. But I thought it was slightly neat, although I don't know if I could ever make the switch. I used to not even look at video blogs, at all. That is until I found out about walllofweird on You Tube. I know this might sound like something stupid, but she's unbelievably cute and I kind of like the sound of her voice. So I will watch her videos from time to time.



I think that she is the only instance of me actually paying video blogs any attention but look at her!





Figure 2

Can you blame me? Not to mention she's funny. Not funny in that Lewis Black or Doug Stanhope, laugh until you shit yourself way, no she's funny cute. Which is different and doesn't seem to effect all people the same way. But I would suggest checking out some of her videos since they can be interesting. In the world of Internet Women Celebs (which some will say doesn't exist) she's a notable entry for cuteness. Another person who actually needs an entry on that list is Miss Paperlillies...check them out.

Monday, September 22, 2008

It's Been A long While

Alright, I don't want to write too much right now because I simply don't feel like it. It's been a while since I wrote in any of my blogs and ALOT has happened. Unfortunately I haven't been in much of a mood to deal with it or write about it. I just found out I will have to wait one more day to register for school because of hurricane Ike.



In fact, everything for the past week and a half can be chalked up to Ike and its effect on Houston. I can't even think of a time when I have seen the city this unorganized, its shocking really. Something that took less than a day to happen has effect this city and every city in a line due north of us up to Chicago.



On top of that I have been reflecting on a lot of things, trying to find things out about myself and doing some serious soul searching. My head probably can't take much more but I can tell you this, I will have something to write here later, once I sort out all that's happened.



In the mean time, Fall is near...the cold air is near which excites me and at the same time I just wish things could be like they were two or three years ago. There's nothing good right now, nothing how it should be.

Sunday, September 07, 2008

You Want To Make 200 Bones Bro?

This was too funny for me not to post...you have to read the pictures, as I won't be able to get the text out of them..this guy posted this on a message board, he got it off another board. But this has internet gold written all over it.



There is an email responding to a question about how this isn't sexual next, check it out...


This is so fucking awesome.

If the pictures are too blurry, here:

http://img134.imageshack.us/img134/1665/make200bonesbroka1.jpg

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Hideo Kojima...You Lying Bastard!

This man can't stop himself, he should be put in a Rehab Home...



The Topic At Hand...



Read the link...that's right.



By the way...best quote on the page!



I'm starting to think that Snake and Kojima (like Dubya) have no exit strategy planned..."

Quitter

I quit my job today. I couldn't go back there and when I finally just tried, I decided I needed to just give it up and go back to school. At that point, they were going to fire me anyway if I went back because I was late. And I really wasn't happy there or with most of those people. Most of the time I felt like I was really worthless there and people made me feel as such all too often. My one supervisor that I thought was really cool called and asked me what was wrong. I told him in a nutshell. An older lady who worked with me answering phones also called. I felt really bad for telling her, because we've lost four people in the past month, we only had nine people over there to start with.



I can't function with the way things were. Any things, in the last day or so I've done things that were drastically hard to do, but needed to be done. Even if I technically just didn't do anything with the work situation so they were going to fire me. I can't be healthy in the situation I was in before though. It was making my physically sick. So I had to make a change.

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Adjustment

I wonder how much longer I can keep my mouth shut? I want to say something that I think won't come out right or go over well. And its in my nature to say something like this all of the time. The words come up, uncontrolled and unchecked. They come straight off my heart and through my mouth without being run through my mind what so ever. I think that might be the wrong way to do this.



My life has been all about adjustment, I think everyone's life is. When you crave those changes and the difference, its a great thing. But change is hard to get used to and its scary. Some of us would rather go through the same miserable routines than change. Right now I am stuck in that place in more ways than one. And I really don't know what to do about it.

Monday, August 25, 2008

Complex

There's some complex stuff going on right now, but its all in my head. I am trying to figure out exactly what it is I want to do next because there's not a clear path to follow and there's no easy risk to take, you know. This has been a long year...life's thrown a lot of curve balls (as I think it always does). But right now, things seemed to have calmed some, and I seem to have something on my mind that just won't leave. I'm starting to wonder if this was all one big mistake.

Something That Produces Results

You're trying to grow up and learn. Oh so that's what you call it. I'll never understand the mentality that people have to take all of the wrong steps, to repeat all of the same old mistakes. To cry out for help, only to ignore those who seem willing to actually help and run head first into the person who is least qualified to do anything.



I am done helping those who I think need help without being asked, maybe even begged. Its not worth it because it never turns out for the better. This last time is just more proof to that, I just have to not watch some people, not care for them or look after them. They'd never do the same for me, anyway.



You say, you want something the produces results? Then actually be open to something that's real instead of surrounding yourself with people who don't know what you're going through, with people who want you around for the wrong reasons and grow up.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Care

I spent the past week and a half trying to be nice to people at work and trying to be all friendly and all that other silliness and I see it just means I get walked on. I am sick and tired of the people who I have had to deal with and what I have been stuck with doing. I have gone from doing my job to doing about three jobs and then getting told that I am "A waste of man hours". I have seen most of the good people leave because they realize its bullshit.



I was really depressed, stressed out and sick about a week ago, so I tried to use my two sick days to get off work. Not only did they not pay me for them like they were supposed to, they suspended me for three days which caused me to lose more money. Keep in mind this is all stuff I can't control.



Then I go back in there like a sap and act all nice a friendly, while people are get all rude with me like I am doing something wrong. This one asshole hates me just because I talk to some girl he likes and is not even dating...then he ends up in the hospital with some issue. They asked me to sign a card for him, I just told the girl, "I don't hate him, but it doesn't mean I care..."



And that's exactly what I meant to say. I'm really sick of being the only person who cares about others when no one even wants to return the favor.

Wednesday, August 06, 2008

Texas Responds to the World Court

To those who don't know, a Mexican national who helped to rape and brutally murder a young girl was killed just before midnight last night. The Mexican National who had been on Death Row for years tried to appeal by saying that he wasn't given a chance to appeal to his home country before the trial because he didn't know he had the right. I guess we put a new spin on the words "Ignorance of the Law is no excuse".



This is a message to rapists and murderers that sooner or later they get what they deserve. When Bush tried to intervene, because the man has been a pansy lately when it comes to foreign policy, the Supreme Court told him to step down and it wasn't in his jurisdiction. Likewise we showed how the World Court has no power over our constitution and Supreme Court...when we adopt a treaty its up to the Supreme Court to interpret it.



And while the World Court has nothing to do when it comes to millions killed over diamonds in Africa or the civil rights violations in China, they can't stand us killing murdering rapists. I think the State of Texas said it best in this personally addressed memo to the World Court.



Monday, August 04, 2008

When Hell Freezes Over

So I made a little wager with Chris from work today...turns out that he wanted to invite me to his birthday party despite the fact he was pretty sure I wouldn't come. Why? Because he's having it at a strip club...not even just that, but a full nude bar. I promptly said no...even when he said a girl I like might come.



He then told me that he was going to invite Max, who is currently on leave from the military. For those of you who don't know, Max is Tiffany's husband. And for those who don't know Tiffany...she still gets uptight when I say fuck. So you can imagine she wouldn't like the idea of her husband going to a strip club. When Chris said what he said next, I laughed.



He told me he's going to get Tiffany to come too.



I must have looked like a lunatic, I laughed so hard. So here's where the wager comes in. I told him if he gets Tiffany there, I'll come. I'm so confident in Tiffany's core morals that I will go to a strip club if she does. I still won't let anyone dance on me or anything (I might buy an eight dollar coke), but this is a large move for me. I've never set foot in a strip club and have no desire too. But I had to get in on this, just because its such an outlandish thing. Tiffany at a strip club...no, not going to happen.



Perhaps the saddest part of this story is the fact that if I am forced to go and that girl I like is there, no matter how many nude women are running around the room, I won't be able to take my eyes off of her.

Sunday, August 03, 2008

Burn the Weather Man At the Stake

I don't believe this shit...they said last night on the news there would be nothing Tropical here for at least the next two days...then I go outside today for lunch and its raining. Now there's like a forty mile an hour wind whipping around outside my apartment...



Should we be able to fire these assholes down at the weather service when they mess up like this. I expected a quiet night at home drawing this picture and being lonely and now all of a sudden I am dealing with a thunderstorm warning and the neighbors kids crying about the bad weather...



I shouldn't have to take this kind of treatment, if this were freak storm...it would be one thing. But this is a named Tropical Storm. I mean, remember Hurricane Allison (yes I know it wasn't a Hurricane but saying that a Tropical Storm caused that much havoc is saddening)? That storm snuck up on us and completely washed this city out...twice. They didn't even see it until it was six in the morning the day it was hitting. We had a like four hour warning.




I am getting tired of this. How does the city with some of the worst weather get the worst weathermen?

Saturday, August 02, 2008

Sick

So I was forced to leave work today on account of the fact that I was afraid I was going to throw up there. I came home, slept and laid around most of the afternoon. I talked to people here and there, but for the most part I just waited around. I think that only one person really worried enough to call and ask what was up. I kind of liked it that way. I'm allowed time to sit here like this and starve this sickness...it doesn't seem to be working yet.



There's been a lot going on this week. Right now though, I can't even bother to think about all of it. I just need to kind of step back and try to get some rest.

Friday, August 01, 2008

My Brother and Barack?

This is a little bit of a shocker that I received the other day.





Who's that? It's my older brother, Jeff and Barack Obama...not sure how he even got the chance to meet the guy, but I wish I had been there. I never get my picture taken with celebs...

Thursday, July 31, 2008

Moment of Clarity

I figured out why I like this girl...and the way I did it was through something that was a bit of a last resort...something I haven't really done since my brother died. I prayed.



I asked God to give me the strength to tell her all this...this stuff that even in my head made little sense. And then he instead gave me something better...he gave me some sensible words to say.



He put the words right into my head...when I'm around her at work, she makes me happy. Like I truly feel like being there. I feel something I haven't felt in a long time.



I don't want to lean on a person to make myself better, that never works. But she gives me a feeling to aim for, something that I stopped trying to get because I forgot how good it felt.



I think they call it a moment of clarity.

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Someone Please Help *facepalm*

Already this week is looking a lot better than the last. I guess things are darkest just before it brightens back up. But how luminous will the brightness get this time? It might sound bad that I am talking about things being better and already here I am worrying at the same time about the darkness coming back.



Well I had to come to a realization the other day after talking to Heather the other day...the darkness will always be there. Whether its right in your face or crept back into the deepest, most remote corners of your mind. We've got to live with it and combat it as best as we're allowed.



Right now the little bit of darkness that's creeping up is my fear that me liking this girl is going to bring me back down. I really can tell I like her and we're okay friends, I know some stuff about her. But I don't know how to progress this. She posted on her myspace saying that if someone likes her "they should just ask her out". Okay does that mean I should take her advice. In my understanding and past knowledge I know girls don't always know what they want and don't always advertise what they really mean they want.



That could be a defense mechanism to weed out guys...or any number of things. I once told Rickey that the problem with guys like me and him who are preceptive and sort of smart is that we know how to read into things. We have some understanding of Human Psychology and it hurts us in the long run because we know all of the different things that the little things can mean.



At the same time it helps us alot, we're able to take precautions and things like that and know what people mean and understand some of the things they do better. But this girl is complex, she's hard to read. I don't know what it is about her but I can't tell if I should take that step and ask her out...or if I should do my usual cower away and bitch about it to you guys later.



To make matters worse her eyes have this power, they're so deep and entrancing that its like getting caught in Itachi's Tsukyomi (I know I'm a nerd...look it up). I either freeze up, or say something very random and stupid, for example, "Jeeze you have pretty eyes." That's not smooth, that's the opposite of smooth.



Someone...ladies advice please.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Size 16 Girl Scoops Second Place in Miss England Competition.

By Daily Mail Reporter
Last updated at 9:11 AM on 21st July 2008

Size 16 girl scoops second place in Miss England competition as 'Combat Barbie' wins 'Eco Girl' award

A 17-year-old girl today became the first size 16 girl to come second in the Miss England beauty contest.

Chloe Marshall, who is a trainee opera singer from Cranleigh, was crowned Miss Surrey.

Chloe said earlier: "I wanted to enter Miss England to show everyone that you can be beautiful no matter what size you are and that beauty comes in all shapes and sizes."



People are outraged about this and I really don't see the big deal. The girl is a little overweight, but she's still pretty and I find her attractive. I think people are just kind of dumb and bigoted. But what do you think this says about things? And do you think that this is a good or bad thing that she won?



News Story Here

Saturday, July 26, 2008

Return of the Regulars

Something happened today, I guess it was just a crisis for me personally, or a crisis coming to a head. For the most part there have been plenty of things going on with me. I think I have really taken a step backwards. But all of that doesn't matter actually...



What's important is that I have decided to give something a go again. Namely the comic book that Prentiss and I were working on. I might need to rework some things, might even need to scrap everything that I have and have to start over. But I want to at least make and attempt at this comic again. I think there are some jokes out there that we have to tell the world and I also think its been far too long since I drew anything really.

Friday, July 25, 2008

X-Files Review

I think it was Roper who made the comment, "X-Files: I Want to Believe plays out the way thrillers used to, back when audiences had to think and the villain wasn't larger than life." I am writing this for two ladies who asked me how it was, let me tell you. I have watched every episode of the X-Files at least three times, I own eight seasons of the television show and still consider it one of my favorite shows.



About twenty minutes in I realized how old Dacovhony and Anderson looked, then I realized, its been about sixteen years since the show started. These are characters we have watched in one form or another for sixteen years. Video games, books, two feature films, one spin-off show later, the chemistry is still there for the characters. This movie is all about characters. There are questions of self worth, of faith, or the world in general and of love all rolled up in this two hour movie.



Of course there are testaments to the fans of the show all over the place, some of the old cases are mentioned briefly, some old characters pop up. But this movie truly was made to stand alone. More than that it was made to make the audience think. Don't go in expecting shooting and gun fights and car chases, this isn't even on the scale of the first X-flies movie which was great...if you watched the show.



Think of this as a large scale piece of what the show represented. Think of this as what the X-Files used to be. A show that made us question coincidence. A show about characters searching. To be truthful the characters in the movie, besides looking older, resemble Mulder and Scully from the beginning of the show more than they do the Mulder and Scully from the end. Yet the writers didn't forget all that they've been through. They didn't over look the fact that Mulder is wanted at the end of show on charges of treason, espionage, perjury and other heinous and trumped up charges. They didn't forget how the FBI offices in the old show looked or the fact that Mulder and Scully had a son, who would be about seven by now.



But for the most part, they've reintroduced the characters. They push all of the info that's needed into the movie and go from there. Even if you've never seen an episode of the show, you can enjoy this as long as you're willing to think and to well...dare I say Believe.

I want to believe

I think that anyone who really knows me well, will know one thing. I have been an X-Files fan since the show first premiered. I was a little kid then watching it at my brother's house on that Sunday night. I think that something about that show just made me love it. Regardless I am happy to say that today the movie came out, and while the many of the reviews say "its for the fans only" I could care less. I am a fan right?



I am going to go over to the theater later today and watch that, mostly because I have been on this "I have to see all the movies I want to kick" and so far I have missed like one movie I wanted to watch: Get Smart. Other than that I have seen everything that I wanted to see.



I've also got it on my mind to possible ask this girl if she wants to hang out this weekend. Not sure what else I can say or do to get her attention, if I don't already have it. It's scary to have to walk up to someone and take that step, maybe it would be easier if I just had something I could pawn it off on, like if we had to hang out for a reason and get to know each other. But I wonder: Do girls really ever think that guys innocently ask to go to dinner or movies?



I guess that even if things don't go swimmingly, I've got X-Files...something I've looked forward to for what--six years now. It'll be good to see Mulder and Scully back in action.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Currents

Looks like Hurricane season is in full swing. Today marked the first attempt by mother nature to drown and murder scores of people in the south Texas area. Needless to say, for the size of the storm, the freak out was unwarranted. It rained a little here, it wasn't like a repeat of Allison or Katrina.



I think that with the memory of what happened with Katrina, all of the damage it caused, that people still have this fear fresh in their minds. For some people that was their first large destructive storm, some people didn't live through Andrew or the ones that preceded that. Even I vaguely remember it.



What I want to say about all of this, what's on my mind even in this storm and this bad weather, is just how much I wish I had someone to talk to, not that I can talk right now. I need to be out of the apartment and away for a while, I need to see someone who I can just sit and chat with, have some fun without having to worry about work and the like. Work has recently been one of my bigger worries.



There have been a lot of changes made and the like, and some other people seem unable to adjust to the changes and shape up. I have been trying to sell things more often like I was told to do but there is resistance from the salesmen. I don't really blame them, but they should petitioning someone higher up instead of messing with me. I don't really feel the need to let someone walk on me and back down, you know?



There's a lot going on that I don't want to think about. There's a lot going on that is beyond my control and some of which should be beyond my caring. Looks like it won't be a good week after all.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Proposal I

Its really hard for me to gather myself and actually go up to some girl and ask her out. It usually takes me a long time to admit to myself that I actually like them and that its not just some passing fad. I've never really been the kind of guy who could just stroll up to some random woman and ask her out with some suave move, that's not me. In fact I don't like that guy.



That guy never got the chance to know the girl or even talk to her, he's just going off what he sees. And I know that the first attraction we usually have, what usually draws us to a person is their looks because its the first thing we get to experience for the most part. We know little about them at this point and that's alright.



I know now that its okay to have to learn some things, its okay to get to know a person and talk to them and get comfortable. I don't want to be that guy who goes into the date blind with no clue about what the girl likes or doesn't like...what kind of person she is and all of that.



Even with all of this in place and all of this knowledge I will still be nervous when I have to go up to her and ask. And if she happens to say yes then I will be even more nervous on the date. I don't handle these things well. All those years in high school and years being told different things led me to believe that no girls that I want would want me. It's a mentality that is pretty much stuck in my head.



I think that one thing in all of this is for sure; once I get to this point its pretty much for certain that I will ask the girl out unless she's not single (which she is single) or unless she's gone to where I can't talk to her. I guess just wish me luck.

Thursday, July 03, 2008

Sofiel: Partitions 2/2

They finished up, the sun was completely set by the time they got back to the car and by the time they were on the freeway most of the traffic had cleared away. Madeleine almost dozed off in the car and by the time that they dropped her back off at her car and she drove home she was ready to fall asleep on the road.

She had to wonder, was she getting weaker?

Did something happen to her.

Brian followed her back to the hotel and walked her to her room, which was only on the floor right below his. She lingered in the door way of the room as Brian stood holding her around the waist, “I guess that I'll see you in the morning,” he said as he leaned in.

She pressed up onto her toes and they're lips met, but soon he was holding her on the side of the neck. She fought to open her door, but couldn't get the key in right and didn't care. Her hands went up under his chin and her back flattened against the dull monotone door. Something she'd been holding back all day erupted in a torrent.

One of his hands found the back of her thigh and she made a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a moan. Behind her the door shuttered loudly as her head came back into it. She giggled lightly, “Sorry....” she muttered.

Brian began kissing her down the side of the neck and she tilted her head up while trying to find the key again and get the door open. Suddenly there was a sound the elevator arriving and the doors sliding open. In an instant Brian was off her but it was too late.

“What's going on up here?” asked a woman coming off the elevator. Her tone sounded as if she knew exactly what was going on and was offended.

Madeleine spun, rubbing her hair down in her face to try and hide the redness, “Um, so yeah see you in the morning,” she worked the key into the door quickly and then opened it.

Brian gave her a hardy good night and let her door shut as he walked off. The room was dark and she fought to find the light on the wall with only the illumination from the window coming in. Off by the side of the king sized bed she spotted the tall free standing lamp and made her way to it.

The lamp flicked to life with a click and no sooner than she did that, she was pounded in the face. She stumbled backwards in shock. Her footing was a little lost and she caught herself on the bed. Even then she managed to fall to one knee on the green padded hotel carpet.

When she finally looked up her assailant stood over her, the only thing was the girl who had done this looked almost exactly identical to her. Her hair was straight, combed down and jet black. Her lips were a vast contrast from her face, drenched in red lipstick.

“Who the Hell are you?” asked Madeleine getting back to her feet.

“Ugh,” said the woman, “When they told me I had a doppleganger here, I didn't think she would look this...prudish.”

“Doppleganger?” Madeleine was holding her nose, “Who are you?”

“Can't you tell bitch? I'm you,” she said walking down the side of the bed. “Well more or less, I'm like the improved version of you—had it been me outside that door, I'd have fucked that man's brains out...”

Madeleine strafed around to the side, “Wait...like one of those alternate dimension things...”

She shrugged, “Whatever,” she said, “when it comes to being here, I'm more like you're shadow.”

In comparison to Madeleine she was dressed in complete contrast, a tight tank top and a skirt that stopped well above her knees.

“So you stole in here to give me that bunt to the face?” Madeleine asked.

The Shadow shook her head, “Of course not,” she advanced quickly and kicked Madeleine in the stomaching knocking her back, “I came to see how rough the other me likes it...” she flung two knives down but Madeleine dodged getting to her feet.

This time when the Shadow stepped in to kick, Madeleine caught her by the leg and drug her to the ground, “Bitch.”

The clone thought to catch Madeleine off guard with a second kick, but she in the face with the face. Forced to let go, she dropped back and almost slammed into the side of the bed. Her Doppleganger got to her feet before Madeleine could, “Its not like in the movies, is it?”

Madeleine was holding her forehead as she rose, “What?”

“The gallant heroine and the copy duke it out, only to find they match each other move for move...” she said.

“You're insane,” Madeleine responded.

She produced a blade from the side of her skirt, “Maybe so,” she started, “But it appears I might be stuck here—and I'd like to know I'm more than your copy...” the two of them rushed together, Madeleine kicked the knife from her hand up into the air and spun to continue with a more forceful second kick. The copy was caught off balance but still managed to grab Madeleine by the shirt and pull her closer.

It all happened in a flash, the shadow grappled at her neck and turned her around. With a fleeting motion the clone caught the knife from the air. Madeleine was pulled down to the floor, with the clone behind her holding her around the neck with the knife poised.

“If you erase the original does the copy by default because the original?” asked the clone.

Madeleine vanished in a blinding flash of white and feathers; there was a pop sound and then she reappeared on the other side of the room near her suitcase and dug her hand down into the tightly packed clothes. The copy sprung back to her feet, and Madeleine whipped her pistol up and fired.

The sound was muffled by the silencer, the bullet tore through the air narrowly missing the target's neck. It sunk into the base of the wall just underneath of the air conditioner unit. As the copy moved to the side she flung a knife at the gun, knocking it off balance.

In those few seconds of lost concentration the Doppleganger rushed in for the attack. She forced the gun off to the side, “I see you won't go down with out something of a fight.”

Madeleine was an even match for the mysterious copy, her own strength seem equal and not over come. She struggled to hold back thoughts of what was going on until later. In another flash Madeleine moved up behind the clone now, teleporting instantly.

She went to strike out and before she could the clone teleported too. Instinct kicked in and Madeleine ducked down narrowly being missed by the forceful blow from the copy. And before the leg could be recovered, Madeleine, with herself just in range, swept the clone's leg out from under her. The assailant came tumbling to the ground and Madeleine pounced up to pin her.

With the copy plastered to the ground and her weight on her Madeleine drew her arms back, the rock like armor that she could call fourth in an instant encased her arms and she brought her arm down to pound her enemy into the carpet.

As her hit connected she was met with the resistance of the same rock armor covering the clone's face. Madeleine gasped and before she could take any other measure the clone was gone, teleporting out from under her. With a kick to the back of the head Madeleine careened off the dresser and into the wall.

She set up holding her head and quickly got to her feet, “Impossible...you've got the same powers...”

“Exact copy,” the leather clad woman strutted towards her, “we're going to have access to the same exact amount of power...”

“No one is an exact copy—none of this makes sense,” Madeleine searched the room for something, anything she could use.

“Love, we are No One's,” she spoke with her arms folded over her chest, “We're not people like your new boy toy, or even your mother...we're just forms—examples of perfection, not like the distorted trash that's Humanity...” she had stopped just feet away from Madeleine.

“I was right,” Madeleine started, “You might look like me and have my moves—but its clear you're nothing like me.”

“You're right,” said the clone, “I drink, I smoke, I fuck, I couldn't give a rat's ass about 'the human condition' and after I'm done with you I'm not going to squander my time away on this miserable existence you call a life...” the clone darted for her.

Madeleine straightened her hand out behind her like like a blade and encased it in hardened carbon, diamond. Just as the clone reached her she jabbed her diamond arm right through the heart. The sound of bone and flesh being torn into, sliced perfectly by the precious stone was the last sound for several moments.

“How did you...” the Doppleganger rasped. Her fingers grasped Madeleine's arm where it plunged into her chest, “...how did you do that?”

“Because only I know what I can do,” Madeleine said with her arm still jutting out the back of her clone's body. It was obvious she'd hit the fatal mark. She was kneeling with her arm struck out and up, the clone leaning down into the wound with its blood leaking down Madeleine's arm.

Madeleine transported herself and the clone out of the building. When she reappeared she stood at the edge of a murky river with the clone's body out over the edge of the water. The liquid was dark and still below. For hiding this body, something told her the River Walk would suffice.

“Things would have been different...” she gasped, “...in my dimension.” the clone expired as the last words left her lips.

Madeleine knelt on the side of the water and lowered the body down into the water and pushed the body off into the dark muck, “As if...” she rinsed as much of the blood as she could off in the water. She hated to even get the blood on herself at all. But this was business—this was her life.

After she warped herself back to the hotel room, she rushed around and picked up anything that didn't belong. Dropping to a squat and collecting up weapons, the shell casing from the gun and anything else she couldn't let be seen.

These things she deposited in the side pouch of her suitcase where no one would usually care to look. She took the time to wash up, her arm was a mess and she would have to scrub real had to get the blood completely cleaned. She came back out and dried off and then she was on the room phone, “This is Madeleine in number seven forty-five,” she sighed, “I'm going to need you to bring up a bottle of wine.”

The voice on the other end was male, very polite and all around well mannered, “Yes, ma'am, do you have any preference?”

Madeleine thought for a second, “Wait scratch that,” she paused, “bring me up a bottle of Patron Green Label and two small glasses.”

“Yes ma'am, right away.”

The moment she hung up the phone she was on the cell calling Dee, the phone only rang once and Dee answered. Cutting off anything Dee might say, Madeleine spoke, “Someone just came after me.”

“Jeeze Maddie,” Dee said, “I could have had male company over.”

“I'm serious, some kind of clone just attacked me,” Madeleine said.

“Clone of you?” asked Dee.

With a sigh Madeleine said, “Yes, try to keep up.”

“What did she say?”

“She said a bunch of shit about erasing me and then something about another dimension...” Madeleine said.

“War told me once that there were other dimensions to help keep this one in balance—you didn't kill her did you?” asked Dee.

“Yeah, I just dumped the body,” Madeleine said.

“Dammit Madeleine!”

Madeleine took a seat on the corner of the bed, “What is it?”

“If you killed her it might have broken that balance some...it could make you and any other Madeleine in other dimensions just a little bit more ...” Dee was cut off by Madeleine.

“...bad?”

Dee sighed, “If that's what she was, look you need to promise me something.”

“What's that?”

“Just make sure that there were no adverse effects,” Dee said.

“I assure you I'm you're same chipper little Madeleine!” she said.

Dee scoffed, “You saying that kind of shit already worries me.”

“Good by Dee,” she said.

“Bye.”

When the phone was hung up Madeleine decided to cut the television on and try to calm her nerves, it was only about five minutes before there was a knock at the door. Madeleine walked over to the door and opened it to find the waiter standing with a small round tray, the bottle of Patron encased in ice and two glasses upside down on the side of the tray.

She took the tray with a smile, “Thank you so much,” she started, “Sorry for calling so late.”

“It's not a problem ma'am,” he said as he nodded at her and turned away.

Madeleine shut the door behind herself with her foot and placed the tray on the corner of the bed. She decided to change clothes before doing anything more, there was this little night gown she had that she loved to wear, a light brown silk thing that she slept in most of the time. It wasn't something she would have been used to a guy seeing her in though.

A thought crossed her mind that she normally would have dismissed, but something made her stop on it and entertain it. Entertaining turned into thinking and thinking soon turned into action. She moved back to the closet and dug out a pair of little shorts and a t-shirt that she'd packed mainly to wear under other clothes.

She changed in a hurry, brushing her hair and teeth too. She headed out of the room with the tray of Patron in hand and boarded the lift bound for the floor just below hers. The wait going down seemed like it lasted forever. From there it was just one hall over to get to Brian's room. She reached his door and gave a little light rap.

There was no answer at first.

She knocked again “It's me.”

The door opened to a room lit by the cool glow of the television and nothing else. Brian peered out through the crack, “Is everything alright?”

“I couldn't sleep,” Madeleine said as she held the tray in the door, “Wondering if you needed some company.”

Brian's eyes widened as a jolt of realization rippled through his body. Madeleine's shirt not quite reaching the top of her shorts, the way she half leaned in the door. He'd always seen her as beautiful, gorgeous, even unassumingly sexy. But something was different there now. Her little half cocked smile postured beneath her button nose. He'd not seen her like this before, “Are things okay?” he asked, “You seem like somethings up?” he let her into the room.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” the glasses clinked together on the tray as it was placed on his dresser. As he turned to head to the bed, she grasped his collar and guided him back towards her, “Now come here for a second...”

Now she backed into the dresser, her hand out behind her in a clumsy effort to direct the tray away. She slid her butt halfway up onto the wooden surface. The slippers slid from her feet as she let her feet hang just barely scrapping the ground.

She was holding him under the chin as he stepped in closer until he was standing between her legs. He grasped her hands in his, massaging them with his thumbs before forcing them down to her sides. His mouth covered hers hungrily, “Madeleine, I hope you didn't come down here to do anything you're going to regret because you think it'll make me happy.”

Madeleine had to wonder if Dee was right, if maybe the double had some adverse effect on her.

“Who said anything about doing something I'll regret,” her legs tightened and tensed around his body some. “I'm doing exactly what I want to,” her lips were drawn to his in a series of short shivery kisses, “You're not getting any further than...what's it called...second base,” with her body still connected to his, she turned back to open the bottle.

His breath flattened again her the curve of her shoulder as he spoke between each kiss that brought him closer and closer to the nape of her neck, “That's fine...by me...a guy could...get used to...this.”

Just as his lips brushed the curve of her neck, she tilted her head away and reached up caressing the side of her neck. Exploratory fingers etched lines down the small of her back. She remembered just then that something was concealed just below her waist line.

Her hand found its way to where she'd hidden a short flat throwing knife, tucked in the elastic waistband and before his hands could move too far down, she plucked it out and dropped down behind the dresser. Back there it was safe, no one would find it until it didn't matter.

The way her lips parted in an uncontrollable exhale brought her attentions back to him. Finally she could enjoy this, all the while knowing she'd have to hide portions of herself away. This was going to be part of her secret life, the part of her partitioned away from him. Brian didn't need to worry himself with matters of doubles, dopplegangers and Angels.

Wednesday, July 02, 2008

Sofiel: Partitions 1/2

December never stayed this warm where she came from but it wasn't worth complaining. Despite the change in climate, the overcast drizzly day reminded her too much of her home. The gray sky over the San Antonio Medical Center clashed and contrasted with the intense green of the swaying trees. It reminded her too much of Britain. She lifted her cup from the table and took a sip.

Madeleine pressed back against the mesh backing of the chair. Her chestnut hair was half-heartedly styled in a wind-whipped ponytail with a group of tendrils hanging in her face. She swept it back, only for the wind to blow it back in the way.

Madeleine spent very little time out of town apart from when she was working. Lounging at Starbucks, like this, was a rare commodity. Things had gained new complexity recently. The world seemed torn asunder, the center couldn't hold.

Horns from cars honked down in the street in front of the hospital, all in rows like shiny metal crops. With her eyes half closed she blew out pushing the hair back out of her face. The engine sounds, the aroma of steamed rain spewed up into the air, Madeleine wasn't much of a city girl, but it all fed into this soothing urban rhythm.

Her cellphone broke the cadence, she rolled her eyes and then plucked the phone from her purse and dropped it face up on the table. From the small square outside screen she could tell the call was coming from her apartment phone, obviously it was her roommate, Dee.

She slipped the blue-tooth device over her ear and then answered the phone, “Is everything okay?”

Dee was still recovering from being badly injured only a week and a half ago.

“Yeah,” came the high pitched voice on the other side of the phone. There was the sound of someone exhaling a long breath, as if they were smoking, “I was just calling to see where you were?”

“Over here in...” she looked down at the newly placed key chain ring, “...the Alamo City—that's what this little fucking key thing says.”

Dee snickered, “San Antonio, nice—well if you get the chance run downtown to Sam's Burger Joint and bring me one back.”

“We'll see.”

“Sofiel,” Dee spoke slowly.

There was a moment of silence, Madeleine's lips parted slowly as she searched for the words,“Let's forget you called me that, Azrael,” Madeleine's words dripped with sarcasm.

“I needed to get your attention to tell you something important,” Dee said, her voice slightly garbled over the static of the phone.

“What?”

“What would you think if I stopped...” Dee said.

There was a short burst of confused laughter, “Stopped? Stopped what, what do you mean?”

For a moment Dee was silent on the other end, “I want to stop being the Angel of Death?”

Madeleine's eyes darted around as she searched for an answer in anxiety, “I didn't know you could just stop being the Angel of Death,” her accent was especially apparent now.

“You can stop being anything,” Dee said.

“Stopping is easy, but it'll never get you anywhere, don't you want to learn from your mistakes and try to come back stronger?” Madeleine asked.

With a sigh Dee said, “I'm going to have to let you go, Maddie.”

“Just think about what I said.”

“I'll talk to you later,” that was when Dee hung the phone up. She was notorious for hanging up before the other person could respond, it was just what she did.

Madeleine glared down at her called ended screen, “Bye, Dee.”

She closed her phone and place it back on the table before taking another sip of the coffee. The sound of an approaching ambulance drowned out most of the other traffic and noises in the area. She clasped her hands over the table and waited for her mind to sink back into solace.

Before she could take her mind of anything, the phone rang again, she hissed under her breath, “Damn her, she's just too bored for her own good...keeps bloody calling me.” This time when she looked at the screen on the phone the call wasn't from Dee, it was from Brian. She answered it in a hurry, “Hello.”

“Hey, are you busy right now?” Brian's voice sent a little wave of excitement into her.

“Not really, just over here at a Starbucks in the Medical Center,” Madeleine calmed herself some, “Did your lecture let out early?”

“Yeah,” he responded, “Do you want to meet up somewhere and get some food?”

Madeleine stood up from the table gathering her stuff and glancing around the parking lot, “Um yeah, sure.”

“Alright, where should we go?” he asked.

“I saw some place off to the side of the freeway over near the hotel, I think it was called Olive Patch or something...” Madeleine said.

Brian chuckled, “You mean Olive Garden?” he paused to laugh again, “You've never been?”

“That was it?” she started as she reached the car and opened the door, “is it some kind of popular place?”

“Yeah its very popular and pretty good, you want to try it?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“We'll meet there,” he said, “Oh and I just wanted to thank you for coming along on this trip, I know its kind of quick for this sort of thing.”

“It's not a big deal really...” Madeleine answered, “But um thanks for honoring my request, I know it might have sounded a little strange and whatnot.”

“The separate rooms thing?” Brian said, “You already said this, and I told you it doesn't bother me...it would have just been a lot cheaper the other way...” he added in a joking manner.

She giggled lightly, “Sorry about that.”

“So where exactly was this Olive Garden?” he asked.

“1604 West just before the Mall,” Madeleine said, “I can't believe I remembered that.”

“I know, when we first hung out you couldn't even remember how to get home from where we were,” he quipped.

That's because I can pretty much teleport anywhere I need to go, Madeleine thought to herself. Being an Angel did afford her some advantages in travel as well as in other areas. She couldn't teleport now, she was in the middle of the city. Too many people and too much risk of being found out, plus there was the rental car to worry about.

Madeleine hunched down inside of the open door of the car with her arms stretched out over the top of the car and door. A small tap alerted her to something, she glanced up to see a small dome of water atop the maroon car.

With an upward burst of air from her lips she removed a tendril of hair from in front of her face, “Just like home.”

As she stepped into the car and sat down the rain came down harder. The pitter-patter of rain drops against the metal was something that she found somewhat soothing. The door to the car was closed and only the sound of rain was clear.

Madeleine glanced up to meet her own eyes in the review mirror. A coy smile plastered on her face, for some reason her own glance made her turn red. Suddenly she was nervous at the thought of seeing Brian. Which didn't even make sense, she'd been there with him for more than a day now.

She pulled the car out of the space to thoughts of his broad tan arms wrapped snug around her body, his lips moving down the side of her neck. The dull sound of a car horn cut through her daydream. Behind her a sedan was blocked from moving any further into the lot. With a sigh she pulled back into the space to let the person pass. As she pulled out int the street the deluge increased around her. Water splashed under her car and she turned and drove off down the road.

This was the afternoon's twilight time, there wouldn't be other drivers on the road in high numbers and she would have a pretty much clear shot back down Wurzbach and out to Interstate Ten, from there it was just a matter of miles to her destination.

Most of the drive there it was like the conscious part of her mind operated on auto-pilot. She drove without the radio, but that doesn't mean it was silent. On her mind's stage the events between herself and Brian were acted out in perfect clarity. Something about him puzzled her, he was able to get so close to her so fast. It was as if her defenses just wanted to let him in.

She parked the car around to the back of the restaurant and got out in a hurry, worried that he would already be waiting for her, possibly mad. Deep down she knew that he wouldn't be mad—she always thought that someone was going to react more violently than they ever did. It never failed to be anything but a vast exaggeration.

Her trot through the parking lot turned out to be a wet one, the rain hadn't completely abated. Yet it was just a cold mist falling from the sky and sometimes moving up and whipping with the wind. The drops hit her in the face, even on the eyes but were too small to bother her. She rounded the corner turning her attention to finding him now.

Madeleine spotted Brian standing off to the side of the front door of the restaurant. His tan muscular figure stood out against the lush foliage that decorated the exterior of the eatery. He stood taller than her, but not by much. His body was naturally toned, not like those waxy body builders.

Even then Madeleine had never envisioned herself with this kind of man. He was overtly charming and charismatic, but still well read and intelligent. It might have been a little biased of her, but she still hardly believed that a guy like this wanted to be a Marine Biologist.

He was well dressed, which he always seemed to be. He wore a maroon polo shirt that fit him slightly loosely and it was tucked into his black slacks. At least she wasn't under dressed, she let her hair down in the car and and was wearing her light suede jacket that only reached to about her waist. Below that she wore a white button up with a black vest over it and a velvety black skirt that reached to about her knees.

As she approached him through the misting rain a Cheshire smile spread across his face, “Maddie, Honey, I didn't expect you to be here so fast,” his stout arm was tucked behind his back.

She pointed, “What have you got behind your back there?”

His smile turned into a sheepish grin, “Looks like you caught me,” he produced a cornucopia of assorted flowers.

Her eyes grew wide and she ran up to meet him. Just when she stepped within arms reach he pulled her in closer, the small droplets of rain hung in her hair and made it twinkle slightly. The smile on her face grew as the shock subsided, “You got me flowers!” she tilted her head to one side as he embraced her, “Aww bless.”

With her face in his hands he kissed her, “I love when you say that,” his voice was low and smooth.

Her face warmed with embarrassment, “I...I know it...”

“And you still get so nervous when I kiss you,” Brian said, “its kind of, sexy,” he brushed her hair back.

She stifled a giggle as she pulled off to the side, still situated within his arms, “You Americans are weird.”

They're embrace continued as they moved through the door, “Yeah we might be,” he paused, “But admit that its part of the attraction.”

Madeleine rolled her eyes, “Mm, perhaps.”

Inside of the restaurant they were seated promptly, the gentle sounds Italian music playing soft in the background. The place was empty mostly, down in that crater-like-lull between lunch and dinner. The whole place was styled like a small farm house, with bundles of grapes and other fruits sitting in shutter covered windows and farmhouse pictures hung all around.

Madeleine was actually kind of impressed, she was expecting something far more gaudy. But even having been to small villages in Tuscany, she could see that this place was pretty authentic. The meal progressed without out incident, since they were the only ones there.

The food was actually much to Madeleine's liking, as she enjoyed anything Italian. But more than anything the salad struck her as being especially delicious. With the food was done and the check paid they stayed behind conversing even until some of the dinner crowd started to leak in. Madeleine kept pulling her slender fingers through her bistre locks.

Brian's eyes never wavered from hers. All of the things that passed by them, all of the other women, all of the sounds that filled the place couldn't pull him away from those emerald colored orbs. He reached out grasping her around the pale wrist gently, “You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“What if I am?” she said shyly.

He chuckled, “You've got this sarcastic self defense mechanism...”

“Mmm, is that what that is?” She was doing it again.

“How do you think you got it?” he asked.

“It might just be something cultural,” she said through a yawn.

Brian started to gather up his things off the table, “Hey you want to get out of here.”

“Um sure, anything else I absolutely have to try?” Madeleine asked.

“Have you ever heard of the River Walk?”

Before it seemed that she had even asked what the River Walk was, they were already there. They'd taken his car and from where they were it just a matter of getting down town to Saint Mary's Street. The up close parking was expensive, but he opted to take it instead of making her walk all the way down there.

They circled back around under the freeway so that they could park the car in the shadow of the convention center. The River Walk was actually sunken down below the city streets in a cement canyon of sorts. The original river that it was built around had been walled off at either end and corralled to fit the city's needs.

On one end the river was peaceful, with wide sidewalks on either side and a bridge ever so often marking where a street ran above. At the other end the end there were businesses everywhere, some of the finest restaurants and tourist attractions in the city. At the river's end was a boisterous mall with all of the normal shops and things found in a mall.

They started near the end where the restaurants had just began and walked along the side of the murky waters, Madeleine on the inside and Brian against the water's edge with his arm thrown around her waist. People swarmed past them and Madeleine had to admit that it was a little more crowded than she would have liked.

Still she turned to him and smiled upwards, “It's so beautiful.”

He kissed her forehead, “I'm glad you like it.”

Her face warmed as her cheeks reddened again, “Indeed,” she quipped. This was becoming a constant symptom of being around him. They moved past the multitude of businesses and different types of shops.

Brian pointed with his free hand over to an ice cream shop wedged between two other eating places, its large sign hung part way out over the water, 'Cold Stone' it read. “Have you ever been there?” he asked.

Madeleine shook her head, “An ice cream parlor?”

With a sly smirk he glanced down at her pale face, “You people have so many ways of expressing things...”

“Oh what did I say now?” she asked.

He chuckled as he led her off towards a small bridge that transversed the river, “It was nothing Mads,” he reassured her.

It must have been too cold for most people to even entertain the idea of getting ice cream because there was no one else inside of the place except for them. They took their time eating and there was far less conversation at this junction. Madeleine hadn't yet admitted to herself that she was beginning to get tired. She hadn't used her powers today so she really couldn't tell why.

But Brian must have noticed her eyelids sinking, “You getting tired?” he asked reaching out to touch the side of her face as she took a spoon full of ice cream into her mouth. She nodded slightly, “Well we can finish up here and head back, we've got three more days here—there's no need to rush and do things.”

Madeleine nodded in agreement, “I've been seeing adverts for this theme park on the television, Fest of Texas I think its called?

“Feista Texas?” Brian asked.

“Whatever, I'm not reading the screen—but I want to try that out tomorrow if we have time,” she said.

Brian nodded, “Then that's just what we'll have to do.”

Monday, June 30, 2008

Juliana Ashley




My character Juliana Ashley as drawn by Akiko!

Angel Augustine Saint John

A Comission of Angel Augustine Saint John drawn by Akiko.



Sunday, June 29, 2008

A Book By Its Cover





A mock up book cover I made for my story Heaven Forbid!




Thursday, June 26, 2008

To the Heart of the Elitist

I got this off the forum site that I frequent and I have read over it and I think this guy hit the nail right on the head with this statement. It might be about movies but it applied to everything from a media standpoint, movies, music, art, all of it!



"The only way to snipe at things that are critically hailed and publicly adored are to call them "overrated," since such a claim is impossible to refute empirically. Should anyone disagree, one can simply label their tastes inferior and/or uninformed and call it a day. Those who do not enjoy a particular work of pop media often feel compelled to rationalize their dislike. They generally do this by adopting an elitist mentality wherein they consider the populace to be drawn to a certain work for shallow or unjustified reasons, thus not only legitimizing their own opinion but elevating it above the majority in such a way that it cannot be easily refuted. While a person confident in the justification of their opinion would simply say, "I don't enjoy this, but I can understand why others would," or something to that effect, the insecure elitist would say, "people enjoy this because they don't know any better".

Monday, June 23, 2008

Katana VS Gun




I had this argument with another writer back when I was showing him my story and he kept suggesting that I make a character that used a katana and was a skilled swordsman but a Human.



I basically told him that it wouldn't work in the universe I had created because the enemies were demons and too strong for someone to take on with their hands. Even with a weapon, they'd get murdered.



Then today someone on Deviant Art posted a list of quotes they pulled out of a conversation about swords versus guns. The comments are really badly put together and most of them are people proclaiming how easily a modern soldier would be killed by a sword and one person even went on to say how a ninja could take down a tank...



There was even this comment that a katana could cut through seven fifty caliber rounds! Fifty caliber rounds will go through an engine. Not sure if anyone here has seen one, but a fifty caliber round is serious business.



This is yet another example of the over romanticization of swords and katanas, along with rampant fanboy/girlism. Its sad that people think this kind of logic applies in the real world. So what a katana can cut seven bullets in half? Even from a small arm such as a Beretta, you can empty a whole clip in seconds before the sword wielder can get to you.



There is a wide belief that sword beats gun.

Carlin Dead

To tell the truth I never found him funny or respected his opinions on religion or a lot of things...I hadn't even thought about the guy in years.

Ah well here comes the hero worship? I know he's dead and all but I wonder if sometimes we deify the dead too often when they really didn't deserve it. I mean I don't think Carlin's material has been funny for quite sometime and most of the time when it was it was few and far between.

Its one thing to say someone lived too short a life, but when someone older dies who was famous and all, I wonder why everyone thinks they have to be made into this figure of worship for a short amount of time?

It seems very...wrong to me for some reason.

One thing I have to say is that for all his denouncement of God and making fun of religion...only he knows the answer for sure now.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

A Tornado...right.

Watching PJ play Sim City...and someone tell me how a Tornado starts a fire in a PILE OF BRUSH.

Monday, June 16, 2008

The Writer

When I was at work one day I mentioned I liked to write and this other guy was talking to me about it. Basically the way that things went we were talking about writing and the like, he kept telling me about the "Great American Novel". How he wanted to write a coming of age story, and something about the "human condition" he went on to be more ambiguous than that. I realized that we couldn't talk about writing right then because he was more or less trying to show off.



Plenty of people who are artists have probably experienced this...you meet someone and you try to talk to them about art or your craft and you realize that they're just fighting to impress you. There is a difference between someone who is really good sharing their achievements and someone who is just trying to show off. He was the latter. He would write at work, urge everyone to read it. I never actually did at first.



One day one of the girls at the desk behind me asked me what I had done the night before. I told her I had been writing and what I had been working on. I went on to say I had finished up this car chase scene I was particularly proud of. Of course he had some comment to make on this, "I used to write stuff like that..." he paused here I am sure for dramatic effect, "...but then I grew up."



He was completely serious, there was no joke there and I had to ask him how that mentality made any kind of sense. I don't know why I entertained the idea of talking about it with him. This guy had shown himself to be pretty ignorant already. Actually he'd shown himself to be pretty immature in his writing too. When I finally read the story I was shocked to see that there was no description, no anything, the grammar was horrid. And more than anything the story was little more than sex talk and ambiguous conversation about people's emotions.



More notable than anything was when he asked me to read this page or so where this hobo told his main character how he makes money by sleeping with rich women. The hobo went on to say that the rich women were "dirty" and liked to say things like "spank me you dirty bum." I don't think I have to tell you that I almost had laugh in his face. It was hard not to. Someone who writes something that ridiculously shitty should castrate them self just out of fear that they could have a kid who might inherit their horrible skill.

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Attack of the Killer Tomatoes?

Sorry about the title, I couldn't resist. But in all truth the FDA has gone too far! I love tomatoes and am willing to take the risk but all of the fast food places around here blacklisted them! This is so unfair! For those of you that don't know, I really love tomatoes and they're one of the things I just have to have on a hamburger when I get one. So it should come as no surprise this upsets me.

Sunday, June 08, 2008

A Horrible Human Being

I was going post something silly about movies. But I caught wind of this story and I have to say that its the most heinous thing that I've heard in a while. Its a long read and a horrifying ordeal that this woman went through and not really a read for the squeamish.



The time crept by so slowly and painfully that the 23-year-old Columbia University journalism student had decided it was time to end her life.



Over many torturous hours, she had been repeatedly raped, sodomized and forced to perform oral sex, a prosecutor told a jury on Thursday. The accused, Robert A. Williams, 31, had doused the woman’s face and body with boiling water and bleach, forced her to swallow handfuls of pills and to chase them with beer, sealed her mouth with glue, and bound her wrists and legs with shoelaces, cords and duct tape, said the prosecutor, Ann P. Prunty. And now, Ms. Prunty said, he was asking the woman to gouge out her own eyes with a pair of scissors.



And so the woman, sitting on the floor of her studio apartment in Hamilton Heights and holding a pair of scissors between her knees — the blade pointing toward her face — tried to stop the suffering. She lowered her face to the blade, but turned her head at the last moment, trying to stab herself in the neck instead of her eyes.



The scissors slipped from her grasp, the suicide attempt failed, and the woman suffered several more hours of torture, Ms. Prunty said.



The woman survived the nearly 19-hour ordeal, which ended, Ms. Prunty said, when she used a fire started by Mr. Williams to burn the cords that secured her wrists to a futon.



Mr. Williams went on trial Thursday in State Supreme Court in Manhattan, where he faces 71 criminal counts, including attempted murder, rape, arson and assault. If convicted, he could spend the rest of his life in prison.



Mr. Williams, who was homeless at the time of his arrest about a week later at the scene of a burglary in Queens, has a lengthy police record dating to his childhood, the authorities have said.



He was charged in a murder as a juvenile, though the outcome of that case is sealed, a law enforcement official said, and he spent eight years in prison for an attempted-murder conviction in 1996.



The prosecution began presenting its case with Ms. Prunty’s vivid, step-by-step account of the attack, which she said began about 10 p.m. on April 13, 2007, and lasted until 4 p.m. the following afternoon. Mr. Williams’s lawyer, Arnold J. Levine, did not make an opening statement. Outside the courtroom, Mr. Levine declined to talk about his strategy. In hearings before the trial, he seemed to indicate that he would challenge witnesses’ identification of his client.



The victim and several witnesses in the six-story apartment building where the woman lived picked out Mr. Williams from lineups, Ms. Prunty said. She said that DNA evidence also linked him to the crime.



Justice Carol Berkman, who is presiding over the trial, found in October that Mr. Williams was mentally fit for trial. After that decision, Mr. Levine said he was considering a mental illness defense.



As Ms. Prunty delivered her opening statement, Mr. Williams sat slouched in his chair, with his head tilted downward.



On the night of the attack, the victim, a month from graduating with a master’s degree, was at Columbia, putting the final touches on her résumé for a job fair the next day, Ms. Prunty said. When she arrived at her apartment building, she got on the elevator and found Mr. Williams inside, Ms. Prunty said. She rode with him to her floor, and could hear him follow her as she navigated the long L-shaped hallway to her apartment.



As the woman entered her apartment, Ms. Prunty said, Mr. Williams asked her if she knew where a Mrs. Evans lived. The woman stopped to answer.



“Her kind moment of hesitation would cost her,” Ms. Prunty said.



Mr. Williams forced his way into the apartment, Ms. Prunty said, put the woman in a chokehold, and slapped her cellphone from her hand. Mr. Williams slammed the door behind him, and “her Friday the 13th nightmare began,” Ms. Prunty said.



Mr. Williams turned a clock by the woman’s bed to the wall and made her take off her watch so she would not know what time it was, Ms. Prunty said. He raped her repeatedly and cut her hair because “he wanted to see her face, her fear and humiliation.”



He made her sit in her bathtub, and that was the first time he told her to gouge her eyes, Ms. Prunty said. He punished her for refusing by boiling water in a kettle and throwing it on her, the prosecutor said. The water jolted her so much that she broke through the bonds on her wrist, Ms. Prunty said, as the skin on her chest, torso and thighs blistered. (On hearing this detail, one of the jurors shook his head and covered his mouth.)



“Just kill me! Just kill me!” the woman pleaded, Ms. Prunty said.



Later, after her failed attempt to kill herself with the scissors, Mr. Williams threw a heavy object at the back of her head, cracking her skull, Ms. Prunty said.



Mr. Williams was intent on damaging her vision because, Ms. Prunty said, “a blind witness could never identify her attacker.”

Mr. Williams eventually slit the woman’s eyelids and face with a butcher knife, Ms. Prunty said, but she did not lose her vision. He fastened her legs and arms to a futon, and she lost consciousness.



When she awoke, she again pleaded for him to kill her, but heard no response. He was gone.



Mr. Williams “only stopped when he could no longer feel the scourge of control over another human being,” Ms. Prunty said.



The woman smelled smoke, Ms. Prunty said, so she wriggled her legs free and pulled the futon away from the wall. She used the fire to free her arms, Ms. Prunty said, and then ran through the smoke to her door. It took her several attempts to open it because her hands were limp and numb, Ms. Prunty said.



The woman ran through her hallway seeking help, Ms. Prunty said, “an image of the walking, living dead.”



This is precisely why I believe so strongly in the Death Penalty...