Translate

Friday, December 31, 2010

Is Depression a Gift?

Konnichiwa!

Happy News Years... Eve! I hope everyone is having an amazing holiday break!

Before I get to my post for today, I would to take this time for what I'm thankful for. I would like to thank all of my fellow bloggers, who have helped to to make this blog even more sucessful. :) Second, I would like to thank all my friends, who have supported my writing and have my back through all of it from start to finish. Lastly, I would like to thank all our readers, for checking in on the blog, as we have had as many as 9 different countries check into our blog. :) Thank you and let's hope for a sucessful 2011 as well. ;)

Now, my post for today will be the start of the next discussion topic! If the title hasn't already given it away, the topic question asks "Is Depression a Gift?" Or better put, is it a gift to writers? Now I know that seems like a moronic question to some, but hear me out. When someone suffers from a depression, you tend to focus on the negatives of life, and rightfully so. But depression humbles you, allowing you to enjoy the little things, making it easier somewhat to happy. Last I checked, being happy is the one of the ultimate goals in life, if not the ultimate.



I personally also find that it's much easier to write when I'm upset, sad, or angry over something. This makes creating a real environment much easier, especially if I'm attempting to recreate the emotion I am feeling at the moment. My best work has always come when I'm in this state, from Closing the Distance to half of Pieces.

The fact of the matter is the best stories rarely, if ever, is about the happiest guy in the universe where everything has gone right. There is almost always something wrong with him, but it is how he ultimately rises above it(or in some cases, falls) that hooks you to the story. These characters are much easier to write and create if you are feeling their problems.

Now you might think I'm crazy to think that depression is a gift. Heck, maybe only my twisted way of thinking could find any good in it, but maybe someone else out there follows my same way of thinking. So you know my take, what's yours? E-mail me at drquinton@hotmail.com, or check out the facebook page where the topic will be up. Check back after New Years for a special version of Questions with Quinton!

Happy New Years, and remember to "Always put Life into Words."

~Quinton

Thursday, December 30, 2010

As the year comes to an end, I think that most everyone needs to take a little bit of time and think about the positive things the year has brought to them. Even bad things can turn out to be positive in the end. Sometimes you date a person who wasn’t really right. At the time you got so caught up with the idea of being in love that the person’s faults didn’t matter. In the end the relationship fell apart and you come to realize that it was for the best. Job opportunities come up, and who isn’t thankful for those? To be in a better place making more money is always a wonderful thing. Some choices will cause you to uproot every aspect of life and allow for a new adventure to begin.

Another thing that I think is good to do before the New Year is to think about things you would like to happen. Set a few goals, and make plans on how that goal can be achieved. Also I think it is important to enjoy the present time, and the people who make your life the wonderful gift that it is.

Now, a portion of another story I am working on.

Kayden looked around the room, and she shook her head, “No, how about a little more to the right?” Kayden had recently moved in with her boyfriend Trey, which was a hard transition. The fact that the moving trucks had taken her things to the wrong location didn’t help.

“Kade, we have moved it a little left and a little right so many times. It still isn’t right?” Trey asked as he pushed the queen size bed a little to the right. Trey’s patience was wearing thin; the only thing that kept him going back and forth was his need to keep Kayden happy. As he moved the bed, he could not help but admire her determination to find the perfect placing for all the heavy furniture in her room. Even if that determination was using his strength in the pursuit of the perfect lay out.

Trey loved almost everything about Kayden, her long dirty blonde hair, her personality, her pale skin, her green eyes, and her slim figure. Right now Kayden had a blank expression on her face, which meant that she was thinking about something. Trey knew not to interrupt her though, or she would lose the thought. He sat down on her mattress and wondered if she would be content with the bed’s placement this time.

Kayden was staring out the window into the many fields that were behind her new home. She longed to be in the crowded apartment with her mother but she quickly wiped that thought out of her mind. Kayden was now living with Trey and his family. She hated to think about the reason she was here. Trey’s home was not out in the country but it seemed as though it was, because all that was behind his house was woods and fields. Out front you could see the pathetic town they called home. She found herself wondering what Trey was thinking as he sat on her bed and stared at her, she noticed that his glance settled on her face.

He smiled, “Is it right now?” Trey asked.

“Right for now, I suppose.” Kayden answered as she flipped her hair out of her face. “I wish I had my things though.”

“Well if it is paper and pens you need, we could go out and get you some.” He suggested helpfully.

“I have that stuff in my backpack; I miss my typewriter.” Kayden replied.

“Oh, I don’t think we have one of those, you and your typewriter. You’re so old fashioned.” Trey stated.

“Well we didn’t really have enough for me to get anything better, and now I like my typewriter.” Kayden snapped back.

“Is there anything else I should move for you, honey?” Trey asked.

“No, not that I can see; I wonder what I should do to the walls.” Kayden’s mind always seemed to go from one subject to the next; it could never stay in one place.

“Well, why don’t we go get some ice cream?” Trey asked

“That sounds good to me, where at?” Kayden questioned.

“I don’t know Kade, why don’t we just walk and see where we end up?” Trey suggested.

Kayden knew where they would end up, it would be the old fashioned Ice Cream Parlor down the street, it was Trey’s favorite place, and Trey didn’t like to sound selfish so he would always say “let’s see where we end up”. Every time they would go to the same place. It had good service, nice faculty and everyone at the place knew their names. It was something nice and familiar. When they arrived Kayden ordered her usual, which was a vanilla shake, and Trey got a banana split. Usually Kayden would argue with Trey and say that she had to pay, but she didn’t have the energy to argue today. Plus she didn’t have any money at the moment, she knew at some point in time her mother’s accountant would contact her. He would set up an account with money she gets for losing her mother, but that point in time had not yet arrived.

Happy Holidays!

Tara

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

You Will Go to the Paper Towns and You Will Not Come Back

I am invisible in
every
single
way.
All
of my strings are broken.

That day, when I left, you told me you’d call. You told me you’d write. You told me you’d never forget me.
But in the end… you did.
I cannot tell anymore what is real, what is reality, between what is in my mind, my heart, my fictional case of insanity.
By the way, take no blame that my ship is sinking. You never did before, so why start now?
It is true, I should get over my broken cracked still breaking heart. What happens to the people who can’t let go and move on? They let go of themselves.
So maybe I can become this bitter fucking bitch of a person who cares about and loves nothing at all. Rip the band-aid off that is my life.
Few people truly care now-days and I will never be the person my parents think I am. I will never be the person someone will drive for 21 hours from Orlando to New York.
I got to… I have to… I need to leave. I need to leave me and become a new person. “I need a beginning again. I wanna feel how I used to feel. When everything was in the palm of my hand and you were here with me.”
Please just tell me everything is going to be alright. Just tell me that right before my roots are pulled from the entanglement somebody else’s roots will grab hold of mine and not let go.

So in the end… I do miss you.

----------
if you didn't recognize in the title, this was a personal response to a novel by the author John Green.

maybe i'm right, maybe i'm wrong, loving you dear like i do. if it's a crime then i'm guilty, guilty of loving you.
-Megan

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

100th Post

Well then, today is in fact the 100th post of Life In Fiction. Yes I'm the lucky girl who gets the gig. Don't ask me how! I honestly believe that Quinton or Alex should've gotten it since they've been here the longest BUT it is Tuesday (even though it feels like Wednesday to me) and I post on Tuesdays (except last Tuesday, but that is only due to my creative block). So, to celebrate the 100th post of L.I.F., I am going to post one of my recently written poems that I believe to be one of my best.


Glass Castle


My life is a glass castle
beautiful to look at,
The sun shines off of the walls
making them glitter.
It is grand.
Awe inducing.


But then, 

I've got to live in it.

It gets hot as the glass keeps in the sun's heat,
It gets cold in the winter with no insulation,
Everything I do, the world can see.


Its a good thing I don't have anything to hide.


And the slightest bit of damage,
could destroy it all.


No, its not quite so grand to live in.
But looking at it you could never tell.

And people ask me
"How wonderful is it,
to live in such a beautiful place?"


And I just smile back,
nod my head,
and say

"It makes a wonderful view doesn't it?
But tell me,
how would you like to live
in a place where all can see,
where damage done can never be repaired,
and it takes a year's worth of spring cleaning, 

to make it look nice?
How would you like to live forever exposed?"


And they say
"How wonderful is it to live there?"


I sigh and reply,
"Its wonderful. Simply amazing."
because they won't ever understand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


So, that is L.I.F.'s 100th post. I hope you guys like it. 


~Anora Anakaya~



Monday, December 27, 2010

My old friend silence

So Christmas was wonderful as usual. But its coming close to being a year away from one of the worst times in my life. Last february I gained a broken heart, and wrote this poem 10 minutes after trying to give myself hope.

* * * * * * * *
The bells are ringing louder..
Oh i can hear the sound of their chimes,
from miles away...

And on a distant tower, I can see the signals,
pointing me to my new way...

And swords don't hold the answer, nor does the sheath where it lays...
But more in the sunlight, that shines on my face, reminding my eyes...
That I see, the very part of me, that I never knew before...

This side, is something that I can't believe, nor something that will ever be...
What I long for...

And I sit here, alone, and think... about what we once were, and what we could be...
and I'll remember, the sun will still set in the west, and when it rises in the east, I'll be alive...
and Dreaming of a better me...

And yet I'm,
Falling to pieces
shedding a tear for what I once held dear
I'm saying farewell, to the the crowded room, I was in...
I'm saying hello, my old friend, "the silence"

I'll reap what I sow, And I'll be what I know how to be...
But what I've sown, isn't dead, it just needs to rest its head... and sleep...
and realize, it isn't going to be the flower for me...

All flowers, wilt in the end... far from where the begin...

And yet I'm,
Falling to pieces
shedding a tear for what I once held dear
I'm saying farewell, to the the crowded room, I was in...
I'm saying hello, my old friend, "the silence"

And I'll whisper in the quiet...
"Hello my good friend silence...
I'll hold your hand when the noise gets violent"
Yes, farewell, my crowded room, you've met your doom...
Hello my old friend, silence.. oh the silence...
oh the silence...
* * * * * * * * *

So It took awhile to get through that heartache, but a few months later i found the perfect girl, and I thank God for her every day.
Hope you are all looking forward to the rest of this weeks writings, there is gonna be some good stuff I'm sure.

Much Love.
Joseph W.

Sunday, December 26, 2010

A Small Tribute

Konnichiwa!


Imagine a life without words.... oh how stupid mankind would be...

How was everyone's Christmas? Mine went well, got a new book to read and some great movies to watch. :D On a side-note however, I am suffering the ever continous illness called Writer's Block. :( So I went searching for a poem to give to you guys. Thing was, I couldn't quite find a poem that matched how I felt at the moment. So, I simply had to get over this block long enough to put life into words. I hope you enjoy it!

I've searched all my life
for the ability to say I was happy.
Happiness.
Life's ultimate luxury.

Yet so few understand
what it is they truly have.
They use the word so loosely,
a fore gone conclusion it'll always be there.

Those of us who are too unlucky,
to claim the same right,
are banished as freaks.
Yet I'm not longer sad.

I have friends a plenty.
A goal set.
And a skill I'm good at.
I'm happy.

I have acheived my luxury.
Yet all it is,
is a shiny ruby.
Because I'm happy,
but still empty.
=================

So how'd you like it? Send to your comments to me or chris. And Happy Holidays!

~APLIW~

Quinton

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Merry Christmas to all! And to all a good night!

Today is Christmas, for all of you not in the know. Myself and the rest of the writers of Life In Fiction are busy celebrating this joyous season with our families, whether annoying or cool. (Literally, my father's opening up gifts while I'm typing this message.) I thought I'd take some time to not only give you my present of Ankoku no Ki's latest chapter, but also a special Christmas message from all of the Life In Fiction crew.

So, as you could probably see from my last post earlier this week, I always associate Christmas with a time of extreme, but happy, greed. Not a huge stretch, right? Well, as a little piece of interest, I thought I might share what each of us received this Christmas. (In no specific order...)

1. Yours truly
In total, I got 3 boxes of candy (nerds, starbursts, and skittles), a bag of dried fruit, a bag of pistachios, 3 CD's (Riot by Paramore, Neverender by Coheed and Cambria, and A Thousand Suns by Linkin Park), an Alice In Wonderland shirt, and an HTC EVO 4G.

2. Tara
I got a GPS device, and the voice is Yoda. I got gorgeous necklaces, and a beautiful ring. I got some clothing items, and a pair of slippers. I got 9-10 books. A couple tree ornaments, and Just Dance for the Wii. There are probably many more things that I received, but I can't remember them all.... OH! My amazing boyfriend bought me Taylor Swift's cd Speak Now, the Target Deluxe Edition which had 3 new songs and 3 remixed versions. I really wanted that!

3. Quinton
I got a bunch of clothes basically, Ohio State gear, A Clockwork Orange, iHome, candy, earphones, a watch, Zombieland, and Scott Pilgrim vs. the world. :)

4. Megan
 I got some new furniture and clothes and a barnes and noble gift card.
Hope everyone has a great christmas!
  

5. Joseph W. 
I got some video games and dvd's. a new sweat shirt, some nice cologne, and my nephew got me a whoopie cushion lol

6. Anora Anakaya
Socks, a charm bracelet, a necklace, some cash, and a Barnes & Noble's gift card, but I have too many books right now so I won't get to use the gift card for awhile :/

Did your Christmas bounty match up to any of ours? Hopefully, it was the best of all of them. Myself and the rest of the Life In Fiction writers hope that your Christmas was great and that your New Years will be even better. No matter where you are, who you are, or to what religion you prescribe, this time of year should always be a source of joy as the calender ticks over to the next year :)



So, without further ado, here's my holiday gift to you:

----------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 3

Running From Fate

            Hurriedly Justin guided Rachel through the door of the building they had only entered seven minutes before. The once favorable air of Columbus in November now slapped each of their faces hard as the most morbid of thoughts passed through their heads. No longer was Rachel even aware of the world around her; half of her mind had been left at the scene of the crime where her teacher’s corpse now lied in all its bloody glory. A timid left hand she was unsure about being her own squeezed her crimson-stained right wrist in an attempt to clot the wound a vicious vine had opened. What her mind still couldn’t comprehend was the fact that the wound had already healed. Something had intervened.
            Softly, Justin’s left hand touched the middle of Rachel’s back, guiding her right, along the path that ran parallel to the building they had just exited. His body was kept close to hers, almost as if he were shielding her, protecting her from the now-dangerous eyes of the word-at-large. With wide-eyes she stared at him with the purest of innocence. Any ignorant mind would never guess the violent act she had just committed.  
            “Justin…” she whispered weekly. “Where are we going?”
            “We’re going to go back to your dorm. It’ll be safer there.” The tone of his voice was stern, trying to push away the small amount of doubt he held.
            “Justin… Why’d she kill him?” For a split second, the words burned brightly within his consciousness and he flashed an incredulous look to match her confused expression. As quick as they had come, he attempted to push her cryptic statement away.
            “Shhh…” He squeezed her slightly tighter against him in an effort to comfort her now fragile body, “don’t talk.” Soon, they were at the lot where he had parked his motor scooter. “The campus is too big to walk right now. It’ll be quicker if we take my moped.” Climbing onto the scooter, he reached out his left hand to help her onto the vehicle. With a weak nod, she took Justin’s lead and clung onto his waist tightly.  After a turn of his key in the ignition, the engine started and soon the scooter was moving forward. As the vehicle turned out of the parking lot, his mind ran speedily through the past half hour in an endless, morbid loop.
*     *     *     *
            Slightly over twenty minutes since the crime, Rachel’s head still swam with morbid thoughts she wasn’t sure she committed while her eyes stared pensively at the ceiling above. The shock her senses had been in when they had climbed onto the scooter before had dissipated while they rode, but the weakness in her body had failed to flee as easily. Trying to feel normal, she attempted to sit up to talk to her friend in a more casual fashion.
“No, don’t get up. Just relax,” Justin spoke soothingly. Rachel lied back down upon her bed, unaware of the fact that she was gripping her wrist. The closest, safest place Justin could think of was her dorm room. Though the dorm was not much of a hideaway, his apartment had been too far away for their current needs. Danger existed in driving his scooter the two extra miles, danger of being caught by the law—or so he believed. He cared for Rachel too much to let her go to prison so easily. They had been friends ever since he had rescued her from a runaway sled back in 5th grade. In a way, he had always tried to be her hero, whether the danger were allergies, grades, boys, or her neglectful parents. Even while by her bed side, he was in a hero’s pose, kneeling next to the damsel in distress with comforting eyes and a soothing voice. He always wanted to be by her side.
            “I don’t think I can relax…” she mumbled.
            “I think you’ll have to.” Justin laughed nervously. “If you don’t, you probably won’t feel all that well very soon.” An awkward silence passed between them, both knew what would come next. “Hey Rach…” he mumbled.
“Yeah Justin?”
 “What happened back there? Why exactly did you decide kill the professor?”
            “I didn’t!” She turned over quickly, defensively, begging him to believe her with the innocence of her wide eyes. “Justin, it wasn’t me. It was her!” He coaxed her into lying back down with his hands.
            “I want to believe you, you know I don’t. I just don’t know who she is. The only person I saw murder anyone was you…” Guilt in his accusation forced his eyes from hers. Nothing felt worse to him than accusing Rachel of murder and knowing her guilt.
            “But…I didn’t…” She sighed in defeat. The facts were against her. “Justin, you know how much Dr. Agasa’s voice scares me, right?” Her eyes shifted back towards him. “Today was worse than usual. He started yelling at me, and I must’ve panicked, or something… Because I felt scared and then I started feeling the pain like I always used to when we were in middle school and I’d have those panic attacks. You remember?” Justin nodded. With her innocent eyes she traded Justin’s face for the ceiling, attempting to make random shapes out of its continual strips of tan squares and then pushing away such thoughts to prevent herself from digressing. “But… all of a sudden…everything just left me, there was nothing. The pain, my fear, it was all gone…and then there was this tap on my shoulder.” Leaving her wrist, her left hand rubbed her right shoulder gently, remembering the slight feeling of the tap. “I looked over my shoulder and saw this girl who looked just like me, a more mature me…” A sad expression filled her face. “With a sweeter voice…” She paused.
            “What happened after that?” Something about her words unnerved Justin slightly, but the odd feeling only increased his interest.
            “She told me that I didn’t have to be afraid…that she’d solve everything…She said that the pain would come back, but I shouldn’t be scared. All I had to do was give in to the pain I felt and everything would be alright. I did, Justin.” Her words wavered slightly as they left her lips, tainted slightly more by her accent. Without thought, her hand gripped her shoulder as if to relieve the tension of the flashback she viewed before her tainted eyes. “I did just as she told me…and the next thing I knew I was watching from somewhere distant as she slaughtered Dr. Agasa. I had no control over anything until beckoned me to go out of hiding again. When I came out, I felt no more pain, but the fear…I had never felt so scared in my life…” She turned over onto her side, letting her eyes fall upon Justin’s face. His expression was pensive and uncertain. “What’s happening to me?”
            “You sound just like that Alex Arlington kid from senior year, before the military took him away.” She fell back upon her bed in a huff.
            “I guess that’s it. I’m going to go insane. I’ll go around killing random people like Alex, and I’ll end up just like him…” She sighed once more. “Please, Justin, if I start talking about angels and demons, just shoot me.” They both laughed at the small moment of levity. It was the eye of the storm, but such moments never last long. The calmness was broken by Rachel’s roommate, Katie—a short girl of Greek decent with shoulder-length black hair, and a contradicting, bright colored Japanese-pop-style wardrobe—rushed into the room. Rachel sat up once more at the shock of the sound Katie made as she kicked the door open and slammed it closed with equal force. Justin jumped off of the floor in response to the sudden boom.
            “I knew you’d be here,” she muttered in a victorious, yet breathless, manner.
            “Hey Kate…what’s up?” Rachel asked with uncertainty. Part of her mind already knew what was about to happen.
            “What happened with Dr. Agasa?!” the words burst from Katie’s mouth. “Everyone’s talking about you slicing him up into little, tiny pieces.” She made a chopping motion with her hands, her speech getting faster as she gained excitement. “IS IT TRUE?!?”
            “Well…yes, and no…” Justin stated casually.
            “Shut up, I wasn’t asking you, Feldini…” she grumbled, noticing Justin standing there for the first time. He grumbled at the name Katie had given him to punish him for breaking up with her the year before. She still was slightly scorned.
            “It’s kind of hard to explain…” Rachel confessed.
            “Well, then START ALREADY! I think we have time to hear the whole story.” Katie was growing impatient.
            “How do you know that no one will come looking for her here? It’s been a little over half an hour since everything happened, they must have thought of looking for her here already, right?” Justin asked sincerely.
            “Oh, c’mon, it’ll be a long while before those j-holes figure out that she’s hiding out here.” She laughed lightly. “This dorm is the furthest from the center of campus, and the only reason I came here so quick is ‘cause I know where she usually goes when things get too heavy.” 
            “I still don’t think we should stay here all day. It’s not safe,” Justin argued. “I was just about to suggest that we should go to my apart—”
            “Oh, keep your pants on Feldini,” she interjected. “You worry too much. Besides y—” Her words were cut off as something pierced through a window next to Rachel’s bed and the top of Katie’s breast, straight into the center of heart. The object blinked rapidly from inside the wound with a small clicking sound to compliment it. Katie’s eyes became wide with horror before her entire the object stopped blinking and exploded, sending her rib cage as shratnel in every direction. Justin jumped atop Rachel, shielding her from the blast. Two bones shot into his left thigh.
            “Justin…”Rachel whispered in shock. Looking down at her, he feigned a smile.
“Don’t be scared,” he muttered before he tried to lift himself off of her. “The wound’s not that bad.” Pain shot through his entire body, causing him to fall to his left just as a small, round capsule broke through the window. Before either of them could react, the capsule exploded loudly before letting out a large mass of gray smoke. In the wake of the bang, Rachel’s ears began to ring loudly, disorientating her as she struggled to sit up in her bed. Before the smoke claimed her vision, she saw the room’s door get broken down by a squad of men that burst through the opening.
“Justin…” she tried to say, but her confused statement was choked down by the thick smoke that began to invade her lungs. She coughed harshly and grabbed her chest in pain. What’s this pain? She gripped her chest harder. This isn’t from the smoke…
Once more the world began to overwhelm her… Everything began to slip away as it had before Dr. Agasa’s murder, but before she reached the void, she felt the prick of harsh needle upon her neck and darkness began to pervade the empty whiteness she had been falling into only seconds before. With a desperate hand, she reached out. She attempted to grab the diminishing safety of Columbus, Ohio in November, the feeling of the brisk air as it filled her lungs, the calming sense of knowing that she didn’t have to be afraid, but to no avail. Darkness consumed the world before her eyes and fear overtook her senses before her eyes closed and she fell into a deep slumber. 


-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Remember, any thoughts or comments can be sent to either Quinton or myself, or posted somewhere on our two pages (Facebook and our blogsite). 
Well, that's all for this week. Expect yet another installment of Ankoku no Ki next week and a large mass of writing from the rest of the crew. Every day brings something new ;)

Provehito in altum

~Alex

Friday, December 24, 2010

What Do You Want For Christmas?

It started out as a night like any other.
Can you count on your hands how many times you’ve heard those words? Clich├ęd Cadillacs, cops and robbers, dear. Her life is a James Bond flick.
Last Christmas, she loved him; the silence between them had been devastation for her – a 5.0 Richter scale earthquake to her no-man’s land hideaway. He was gone for a while, and, at that point, she’d hoped he wasn’t coming back.
This year, this morning, he buttoned her jacket up, slowly, bottom-up, as if he regretted his actions the very moment he made them. Pulled her hat down over her ears. Kissed her forehead, as if he could still look after her, protect her. She told him goodbye, walked away with a smile while he had tears on his cheeks.
Hours later and she’s running, starving, screaming (only on the inside). The cold is a killer. It possesses her fingertips and doesn’t leave until spring. She hates it; she hates everything.
Her coat is dirty with blood, spit, tears. She’d give anything to go back to their dawn and away from what she chose. She can’t now; no turning back now. She may be dead before the morning comes.
“Santa,” she begs, “will you grant me my Christmas wish now?”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
all i want for christmas is you
-Megan

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

messing with your heads a little...



What’s this feeling? I thought in the comforts of my own mind. No, it’s not a feeling. More of a lack of it.


“Are you talking to yourself Flynn?”

The voice of an adolescent girl broke me of my pseudo-haven. So much for thinking to myself... I looked up to find myself staring at a dark-skinned girl in a tight, short red dress. She had short hair and glasses with zebra frames. I glanced around to find the area was similar to my high school gymnasium, only with millions of teens in semi-formal wear and santa hats grinding on one another. Then I remembered that I was currently attending my high school’s Christmas dance.

“Why are you sitting around like a loner? Get up and dance!” the girl shouted over the loud music in the background.

“I’m tired Shay! Geez…” I sighed. Five others soon joined us.
“What’s up you two?” my best friend James asked with a grin. “Are you two having a secret love fest?”
“Flynn’s probably still tired silly!” his girl Ami replied.
“Come on Shay let’s rest as well.” Shay’s date pleaded, sweat dripping down his forehead.
“See what you started Flynn!”
“Don’t blame me!”

We all laughed and each took a seat. “So Flynn what were you being sad about over here?”
“Nothing.” I said back, eyes closed, while I was biting into a candy cane.
“Come on, we know you better then that Mr. Depression.” My friend Dre poked.

It’s true; I had recently entered a depressed state. I had to take weeks of counseling, and lost a lot of friends in the processed. Hell, I went as far as to commit suicide. However, these guys have stuck by me. They are my “nakama”, or our term for family.

“I’m actually fine Dre. I’m happy, which is what’s bothering me…”
“I’m not following babe.” Dre’s girlfriend Carrie said to me.
“I’m happy. I have great friends. I now am making hundreds off a book I wrote about the situation, got a full ride into Syracuse for journalism, along with you guys, so I never have to worry about being alone. Yet I still feel like something is missing…”

“Eh, I think what you’re missing is this sick dance!” Jeff broke in.

“Look babe...” Carrie said leaning on my shoulder, “The only thing you need to do is enjoy this night! After all it's Christmas... Eve at least!! Come on let’s get back out there!”

Suddenly the music switched to a slower beat, the beat of a song only I recognized.

“What is this?” Ami asked curiously.

Stand By Me by Prince Royce.” I answered.

Immediately the girls’ faces lit up, and they took their respective man out onto the dance floor, leaving me alone. I stood looking around at everyone dancing with their significant other. My heart slowly began to ache more and more with each person I saw, until my eyes locked onto one girl who delivered the kill shot. I saw my ex, Vegas, dancing with her new boyfriend. My heart sank in defeat. I then had an epiphany about my missing emotion. It was the thing that caused my depression, the love of someone else to call my own. Love that no amount of friendship could ever replace… So all I could was take a seat, and wait for the next song to come on.
================================

Konnichiwa!

Okay guys, sorry it took so long to get this post up, I had to post a little early this week so I had rework this earlier then I made plans to. Megan will be posting on Friday however so don't worry!

As for the story, it's a piece I wrote to go along with the theme of love that is needed but just wasn't there. Flynn is a boy on top of the world, who has everything you could really want, except for that one key element: love. It just goes to show how little life would mean without love, the most powerful force on this planet by far... Well stay tune tomorrow for an awesome piece by Tara! I'll see you guys on Christmas!(hint, hint)

~APLIW~

Quinton

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Where for art thou Anora Anakaya?

It's Tuesday, which would usually mean a new post from Anora. Unfortunately, she's not feeling the best today, so your friendly neighborhood demon of greed, Alex, is here to fill in.


Usually, "filling in" would just mean posting one of my many poems, but Joseph's piece yesterday inspired me to go a step further. He talked about love and a sort of hope that comes from such a faith that is held so respectably in his heart. As a heavily agnostic person, I don't share such a faith. So, I started thinking about a nonreligious scenario where the same love is needed, but simply isn't there. There's nothing fancy about the piece, and no title to thrill you, and (in my eyes) doesn't compare to Joseph's piece, but it shares the mood of what is really needed during this holiday season.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I stare at all the happy people on tv. Them with their families, it’s the kind of happiness I always wish to see. There’s usually no happiness when December around. My family’s never cheery when Christmas comes to town. 

“So, what do you want for Christmas this year, Alexander?” asked my dad, changing the channel to CNN. Apparently, some starving children wouldn’t be getting a Christmas dinner. Only ten years old, I stood behind him as he sat on the couch, only half paying attention to whether or not I answered his question.
“What do I want this year?” I answered. “Maybe I want a new video game, or some music to make me grin. How about some candy? Yes,” my eyes went wide with joy, “a huge licorice tin. What do I want this year? I really want a new computer, something that’ll let me write more, something that’ll make me happy, and make my life less a bore.”
“Really, Alexander?” said my father. He turned off the television and looked back at me with an incredulous look. “No wonder I named you Azazel, you’re greedier than Scrooge!”
“Am not!” I blushed red in embarrassment.
“C’mon, look at what you’re asking me for: 1. video games; 2. music; 3. candy; 4. more candy; 5. a computer…” he scoffed. “Whatever happened to wanting hope or peace for Christmas? Whatever happened to giving to others to make their holidays better?”
“But, dad—!”
 “I’m serious Alexander… Think about all the people out there who are less fortunate, all those people who have nothing. If you’re going to be so greedy, then all you’re going to get is service hours helping the poor.”
“I just—”
“We’re done talking, Alexander.” He turned on the television and more depressing news from CNN filled the empty air between us. The only place I’d get what I wanted was in my head. That’s when it hit me. Maybe I didn’t actually want electronics or licorice. Maybe what I truly wanted…what I truly needed was for love to find me.

What do I want...
What do I need...
Maybe this year I’ll get something in between...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Life is always harder without love from those you want it from most, no?

Check back tomorrow for a new post from Megan, I'm sure it'll be spectacular. She hasn't shared anything so far that hasn't blown my mind.
Also, remember to come back on Christmas, if you're not to busy opening presents and drinking egg nog. Along with some Christmas wishes from some of the Life In Fiction writers, I'll be posting Ankoku no Ki, Chapter 3: "Running From Fate."

Provehito in altum

~Alexander Azazel Arlington 

Monday, December 20, 2010

Hey guys, Christmas is this week!

Well guys, its that time of year, and Quinton asked me to start the week off with a Christmas poem, usually thats hard for me, because usually Christmas is kind of a depressing time of the year for me, but I'm pretty good this year, and have a ton that I've been blessed with.
I have a wonderful family, good friends, an incredible girlfriend, and most of all my salvation through Jesus Christ.

So I decided to write from the perspective of a non believer, asking Santa Clause for Love, but he then finds Santa cannot deliver true love.

* * * * * *
By the fire glow I sit
waiting for some kind of tip
some sign, of the things to be mine.

Hey santa, are you real?
prove it, I want to feel.
I want to see, i want you to appear to me.

do you hear my wishes.
what if i asked for some mistletoe kisses?
not even you could grant that.

But santa I write you anyways.
because I long for someone to believe in.
someone who can make dreams come true.

Christmas morning comes,
There is no love,
no one to cherish.

You have failed me again santa,
year by year,
you lead me on good sir.

That night, as i stared at my Christmas tree
the angel on top began to sing to me.

"Good son, good son, please do not stray this day. you asked good old saint nick, for something he could not give you.
you see Santa is a spirit, he can bring you no real love. For the real love is from the man who is birth was today.
He was born in a manger, quietly you see, and was crucified on a hill, on the mount they call calvary.
He was sent by his father, to die don't you see, all for the love of you, and me."

The angel disappeared, and with a new perspective,
I knelt and I began to pray.
Dear Lord, I said.

Take me as a son,
take me as your child,
My savior, hold me in your care.

That Christmas brought forth the true love in this life, the love of Lord Jesus Christ.

* * * * * * *

There you have it, in my faith, only Christ can deliver the true love people are seeking, its not in mediocre relationships, and its not even in marriage. Those things are great, but the one true love comes from Christ and his birth into a world that hated him, and crucified him, but it was all apart of God's plan. He was to die for their sins, so that by choosing Christ, they are choosing God, and they too can have eternal life in Heaven.

To me that sounds pretty easy, Loving Christ earns you a spot in heaven. I like that idea a lot. But its not about getting the spot in heaven, its about the relationship with your creator, that friendship.

This was entirely free written, including the poem.
I love you all, and I will be praying that all your travels during the holidays are safe and all your events are fun.

Have a very Merry Christmas.

- Joseph W.

Sunday, December 19, 2010

End of the Week| Another Poem

Heather Baker, and My Obsession With Fire


I.

Life may keep us down.
We may continue to seek what we’ll never get,
But never forget that sometimes giving up isn’t an option.
Reasons are fears when we only imagine why we’re even here.

II.

“Just picture her face…
How she talks…
How she walks…”

I can see everything that she is,
Even if she barely knows me.
It’s sad, but
Sometimes I can’t help but feel
That such beauty begets something overwhelming.

My eyes can peer into the layers beneath the detestable mask
She lets others see so avidly.
Such eyes can see the aura that peeks out
From beneath them all.
It tells me that something special exists in her soul.

If only she would knowingly show me the depth that lay beneath,
But—
No—
I could never be so lucky.
All that's shown is the simple view
From far away
Of something that will fade more
As others bring about its decay.

“Just picture her face…
How she talks…”
All I see is
How she walks
So far away
From me.

~Alex