Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Still Watching the Olympics

Watching Michael Phelps with the Men's swimming team, and the Women's Gymnastic theme here is kind of really uplifting. Maybe some of them don't believe it, but they're so young and they've accomplished so much. Even if this is Phelp's last Olympics, or even if he only gets one more go, there's already so much he's done at such a young age. Twenty-seven!

A few days ago, I was browsing around the AMA subreddit, and there was a woman who was turning 100 years old. People got to ask her questions, and for some reason, at my age, I always imagine life kind of stops at the age of sixty, as if there wasn't a chance for some thirty or forty more years.

If they can accomplish so much before hitting thirty, how much can all of us do? Maybe it won't be as grand as being the greatest Olympic athlete of all time, but it'll surely be something worthwhile if we try.

P.S: I hit 50 pages, and this needs some heavy editing. I have a load of bloody writing tics ("just as..." "it seemed like..." "whirled around..." "threatening to..." "as if..."
            She sucked in a gulp of air, stood at the tip of her toes. Then she whirled around and bolted up the staircase.
            She heard the jester’s scream echo, the sound banging against the walls, threatening to throw her off the staircase. She could hear the scrapping and piercing of wood, growing as something approached her, crawling, mounting, louder and faster than the beating of her heart. “Hurry!” Muñequita hissed, and Dream pushed her legs to go farther, circling around the room with the stairs, not daring to look behind her shoulder.
            “Come back child, come back!” Amadeus was singing.
            Her breath was uneven and uncontrollable, and her hands were shaking as she held them into tight fists. Run, run, run, run, she repeated in her mind, over and over again as the blue button grew bigger and bigger. The jester was screaming things, no longer in a language that she could understand, and he was somehow growing closer but far enough that his blades were yet to harm her. Dream wasn’t fast enough, she knew it, he was there, so close.
            She let out a gasp and a small scream as she smashed her body against the blue button.
            It all happened so fast.
            The large container hissed just as she heard something explode outside, right before a deafening ringing sound claimed her ears. She flung her hands up to shield them as the sound vibrated, but as the container slowly opened, the stairs which she now stood on shifted down at an angle immediately, knocking her off her feet.
            Before she knew what had happened, she was sliding down the changed staircase, grinding up against the walls while her legs harshly skinned from the wooden surface. The container at her side creaked and squealed as it opened, and when she turned to it, her eyes widened in shock. There was a creature inside.

Monday, July 30, 2012


AHHHHH! Don'thavesomuchtimeleftwon'tgettowriteinafewdaysandthenforafewweeksgottafinishgottafinishsomuchtodo

I'm freaking out.

Also, would this be considered offensive? Get me in trouble?

            Dream felt a shiver bolt down her spine and she looked away. “Amadeus, why are those that take their own lives disliked in Enkindle so much?”
            “Why? You mean, aside from being vile?”
            “Why are they vile, Amadeus?”
            “They are cowards! Selfish! They do not think of the harm they inflict on others and do not have the—how was it said?—the guts to fight for a better life-”
            “That sounds like stuff humans would say,” Dream interrupted, then placed three fingers against her lips as she realized she’d cut off him mid-sentence, “Sorry.”
            “Well of course they’re words humans would say!” Amadeus exclaimed, “Humans have said them, and they are most justified. Once the words reached us, it was logical to adapt them.”
            Although she wished to continue checking the caskets, Dream stood there stone frozen by perplexity, “You hate them…because we do?”
            Amadeus opened his mouth, as he had been accustomed to doing, ready to answer before Dream had even drawn breath, and yet he stopped, stumped completely before saying, “Well no, of course not, silly girl! It’s far more complicated than that! Besides, do you not agree with me? Do you not agree that ending one’s life is selfish and the way of cowards?”
            There was no immediate answer that she could give. Dream tried to separate herself from others who had come to Enkindle in the same manner that she had. In a way, she tried to see them the way Amadeus saw them, she could not. Taking’s one life, without knowing of Enkindle, without the goal of returning, seemed to be a terrifying thing to do, but selfish? The way of cowards? She could not see it. Did one’s own life not belong to oneself but to the people, and therefore ending it meant snatching something away from others? Such a thing confused her, and though she would not believe choosing death was courageous, she could not see it as being the other extreme either. “Not really,” she finally answered, “It just seems like a choice.”
            “A horrible, most despicable-!”
            “No,” she interrupted again, although she did not feel the need to apologize for it this time, “Sad, maybe, but just a choice.”
      Amadeus halted in a way utterly foreign to the manner in which he had been conducting himself. “You are a strange one,” he mumbled, and for the first time in her life, Dream felt ever so slightly offended at the comment.

Or maybe the wording, syntax, etc, is just so damn awkward no one will care and instead just stamp a huge THIS IS STUPID over my submission form.

I'mma take lotssss of pictures and videos of Ecuador to edit and then show off to Carpathia. Because yeh.

Saturday, July 28, 2012


From online, I see people are against certain aspects of the olympics, dubbing them useless. I'll never be a sports-y person, but I'm glad the olympics are hosted every four years (the summer ones are always badass. My first one watching in TV was at Athens).

I'm never sure why we admire the athletes so much, but I remember how happy Ecuador was when Jefferson Perez competed. He was an individual and not the country, but he managed gold and then years later the silver under Ecuador's name.

Besides, I already talked about "useless" things. I'm glad certain countries have the luxury to enjoy moments of our world.

P.S: I said I'd update, but I'm typing this with Hannibal's help, and I gotta go Do Stuff for Trip to Ecuador.

Thursday, July 26, 2012

So I'm stealing this concept but...

Why do I have a sudden urge to put Sonya and Caesar in a sci-fi book with a prison-planet-country-something storyline?

Argh...the clicheeeees.

And I still have so much shit to write.

P.S: Real update later today/tomorrow.
"Science and science fiction have done a kind of dance over the last century... The scientists make a finding. It inspires science fiction writers to write about it, and a host of young people read the science fiction and are excited, and inspired to become scientists...which they do, which then feeds again into another generation of science fiction and science..."
- Carl Sagan, in his message to future explorers of Mars.