Personality.

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Complimenting the already insane ideas in my mind I want to say that I am working hard to bring you all something presentable as a means of reading, In simple terms I want to write another graphic novel because I have been doing it since first grade. I love the complete concept of them and the way i tell stories is just complimented by it. So I decree that on my second blog I will work on the results.

 

Beginning

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Well my public I have done it again. I now have a second Blog titled The Thief’s Truth here on wordpress. and on Tumblr. its going to be where I work on my writing and I’d like to have some following along the way. I would like to warn that this new project is not for the faint of heart. I plan for it to be an uncensored travel into the far reaches of the mind that is welcome to visitors

Rethinking My Options

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So I trashed my previous idea for the pursuit of something more up my alley. Since books and comics are a little too lax for me I figured that I would do a COMBINATION of the two for the sake of creativity. I love the idea of words and pictures working together in harmony but as I think this over I believe that this will work. So In the next couple of days I may post some examples if I do it on my computer. which seems like the best option

Unsure

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I am unsure how many chapters I have but I would like to say I have more than 100 pages and I am happy. When books are massive I find that I am less likely to read them for my short attention span likes short and sweet. As I sit so content in my blossoming book I think I will be very successful In publishing so I will leave that open for discussion.

Cross roads.

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Thinking today has really junked up my process, I have a conundrum to deal with and I feel trapped. I really want to write a graphic novel but I am currently doing a novel. Honestly the novel wasnt my first choice but I am neck deep into it at this point and I don’t want to get rid of it but it just puts too much stress on me as a person trying to complete it so I am stumped, SO in the way I do things I think I can agree that I would have more fun doing a graphic novel but Time always plays a role in my destruction. Today will be dedicated to experimentation!

Joyful Exchanges

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So as I type I am crafting a masterpiece. about 60-74 pages strong and growing as I think beyond the world of the living into mythical places I am crafting. So I put the book on Wattpad for the simple reason of being egged into it by my dear friend. So I have to say that the experience is different but I am confident if I am as good as I am told then this should be awesome.

I’m Baaaaack

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Sorry for the absence but I was hospitalized for about 14 days and spent the last few settling back into life with my new hour by hour schedule and as such I am getting back into the swing of posting. Currently I am writing Finiat Venuint Adhuc and as such I have made a Wattpad account to share it before I publish. I started it in the hospital since they let you have journals there and while treating my bad reaction to medication and observations I got 31 pages ready. Now to Type them, Also my Wattpad account is a silly name: NeonMudpuppy and the story is Finiat Venuint Adhuc with the tag of Magic. So if you are interested then you can check me out there. Up to now I have gotten Rave reviews so I’d like to hear from you.

 

Unhinged.

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Today is a Poetic Day!

 

Imperfections.

Seize the day and thwart the plot

Lock and key sealed the heart

Decisions impede the flow

Hearts stops… then go

Nights creep over sleepless

Lie awake and I digress

Regress into the past

Back when things did last

Back when mistakes were few

Back when love was true

Lay upon an empty bed

Voices dance within my head

Bursting at the seams with hate

Stars hide upon the clouds

The wind howls upon the dark

Euphoria sways in the midnight air

Depression lurks in the bushes

Suicide takes center stage

The drama ends with rage

Smashing and destroying the page

In a book intricately laid across the stars

Depicting a life from afar

Shattered and flawed.

Tossed away to rot

Forgotten by a lot

Burned and raw

Wounds never heal

 Grudges never fade

Dodge, duck and evade

Escape.

Tonight is like many

Full of mystery

Hope and Dreams

Fill the sky

New Realms to explore

Til the night is no more

Universes full of Whimsy

Imagination and Glee

Childish fantasies fulfilled if only for a night

Filling us all with untamed delight.

Into the wild blue yonder let your mind take flight

Push through the darkness and emerge in the light.

Begin the journey and power through with all your might.

 

In conclusion I am taking a serious look at turning my dreams and poetry into a book, I kinda wonder if you’d be interested in reading it if I did so. :D

Loss of Self

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Today is a sorrowful day, Besides the bone chilling cold outside I feel somber and hollow. Today is a day of mourning I guess, not for a family member or friend, just a loss of who I used to be. I am a shell of a human at this point, and unfortunately I feel I am getting no better. I hate what I have become; a lonely, apathetic, empty human being, but that is the only feeling I seem to have left, all the others died and blew away in the wind. The longer I live the more my memory begins to dwindle away, the good washes away but the bad remains, and I can no longer recall the last time I was happy.

In my dreams there is always a sense of impending doom, I just seem to drown in an endless nightmare. The only constant presence is that of Death, and death is always there; stalking and creeping upon an innocent life and time and time again just snuffing it out. witnessing death seems rather serious in real life, but I am unsure if it is as serious when asleep. I am plagued by a hauntingly vile dream of just uncensored anguish.

But there is a new level of pain to be experienced in actually witnessing the slow, agonizingly painful suffering of a young life. On a nightly basis I watch the life drain from her face as her wounds have festered and usually I pick maggots out of the wounds. She sweetly cries and her voice is weak and fading away with every jumbled sentence. She speaks nonsense and grabs my hand; she has clammy hands and they are colder than ice, she always gathers enough strength to sit up and lean on me, sometimes she drools on my shoulder, or she asks me to “die with her” before she convulses from shock. Sometimes she will vomit on me, and it is always full of blood as it is red with a white milky coating of acid; it burns me to the point I wake up in blistering pain, despite her being so close to dying she keeps a vice on my hand digging her nails in, she tells me not to leave her alone, I never thought of myself as brave but I seem to become courageous with her and I pick her up and just carry her, I don’t know where I am going but I just go. Anywhere is better than that dark, dank hole in the ground. I always remember the trip, her wounds ooze and drip pus onto my arms and legs. The smell is horrendous, even out in the open the suffocating smell of rotting flesh and waste matter permeates her clothes and mine,It makes me want to stitch my nostrils shut. She loves to be out in the sunlight, the air seems to revive her; that and bandages. In the light, her eyes twinkle and she finally smiles at me and gingerly feels the grass and exhales a ball of light that just blinds me; In that she heals herself and extends her hands and touches my nose.

The dream plays in a sequence, when I bring her out of the hole, the next dream she explores a dystopian landscape, or she is lost in a surreal realm of fantasy, or she actually dies and roams the underworld searching to find her soul again. she has decided that she doesn’t want to die alone and searches for a companion to “die with her.”

Her misery seeps into my own, and has developed a life of its own.