Thursday, June 30, 2011

Two poems from Alex

Here are two untitleds from Alex's notebook:

One heart,
one mind,
is all I'll ever need.
An actor
though I am,
I will never be
nothing but me.
Set out against fate,
my mentality shall never rest.
There is no sleep
for someone
who can't accept death.


Dream of my success.
Make my digressions
    something more.
Help me find worth for all
    that lay beyond life's door.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

A New Beginning Chapter 4!

Hey guys, good to be back... I was in Disney world on vacation, and have been extremely busy shooting and independent film as well as working with my band.
But alas, here we are, another chapter in my sci fi novel...


Chapter 4
A Nuclear Blast

The ship had been in space for 2 days, the passengers never grew bored of the view outside. It was a sight like no one had ever seen. The stars were bigger, and more beautiful, the blue ball known, as “Earth” was now just a glowing shadow of blue.

William Jamison sat in the lounge area in the middle of the third level of the ship.
He was pondering how the ship could make it to Mars in such a short amount of time, for Dr. Jennings had never explained it.

He looked out the window behind the ship, and noticed that a hatch from the restricted lower level was opening. And something was being dropped out the back.
Then suddenly a voice came over the loud speaker throughout the ship, “Attention all passengers of Exodus1, Please find a seat and strap in, it is 30 minutes till we jump.
I repeat, 30 minutes till we jump.”

William couldn’t comprehend what they meant by “Jump,” But he took a seat right by the window watching the floating object behind them. It was long and made of metal, almost like… a missile. It struck William immediately, It was a Missile, It looked just like a Nuclear Warhead. He had seen them many times working as a police officer in Indianapolis. Ever since the attack on Columbus, Ohio, every capital city boosted its security, and was equipped with anti-nuclear turrets.

He became immediately concerned about this, as time kept moving.
Until over the loud speaker the captain’s voice came again, “Prepare for immediate impact.” Suddenly William looked out the window, and saw the Nuclear Warhead slowly expanding, and gaining speed, as the blast began pushing the ship forward at a faster rate, the ship more than quadrupled in speed. He saw what should have been a mushroom cloud forming, but it was more just radiation filled smoke. William did not like this. It was not what he had signed up for.

A few moments later he stood up, and ran to Dr. Jennings who was walking nearby towards her quarters. “What the hell was that Jennings?” he exclaimed.
Jennings turned to him and stated “Please speak to me in a more respectful tone Mr. Jamison, Or you will find yourself on a long journey back home, through nuclear radiation, in a lonely escape pod. Now what you saw, Mr. Jamison, was a nuclear warhead, which we blew up, so we could get to Mars in a much shorter amount of time, so we don’t starve inside this ship or run out of oxygen.”

“I didn’t sign up for this!” snapped William. “I didn’t want to be part of a nuclear program! You endangered the entire ship by doing that! Your lucky there wasn’t any damage done to this ship from it!”

“Well Mr. Jamison, we already knew the consequences, and they weren’t severe, all we did was lose contact with earth, for 2 weeks. I think we can handle that, once we get to our colony on the new planet, we will re-open contact. So calm down, go to your quarters, and sleep. Goodnight Mr. Jamison”

Dr. Jennings promptly walked forward without another glance at the angry man. She entered her quarters. William was left alone, and feeling uncomfortable.


Once again, I'd love to hear your thoughts and predictions.

Joseph W.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

The Amazing Trio

So I decided, as my apology gift to all of our wonderful readers, to post my most advanced, and most well liked, story. This is the only story of mine that I think may actually become a full fledged book at some point in my life. Anyway, it is a fantasy storyline so if you aren't into the whole Eragon-Harry Potter-Narnia typed stuff, well this probably isn't for you. 

The Warrior, The Rogue, and The Healer

The thunder clouds overhead loomed over him. Thunder boomed some distance away. Lightning lit up the sky. He stood, sword gleaming in his hand, above the wrecked city. His pistol was at his side and a bow and quiver was slung across his back. His red aura slowly entered, left, and re-entered his body, a sporadic display of color.
            The healer leaned over a third figure as the warrior looked upon the city. The healer’s blue aura exited her body and was funneled through her hand into the comrade’s dying body. Life slowly returned to him.
            “How is he?” asked the warrior in harsh voice, without turning around.
            “The rogue? He’ll live,” replied the more tender voice of the healer.
            “Then we leave.” The warrior left his previous post and walked across the rocky surface, his boots clomping in the rain and blood.
            The rogue started to rise, his black aura shimmering slightly, like a faint and dying candle on a windy night. “Here let me help you up.” The healer bent down and put the rouge’s arm over her shoulder. The rogue was only semi-conscious of what was happening.
            “Where are we headed?” asked the rogue in a faint voice.
            “After the survivors,” replied the warrior.
            “Why? We already scattered their forces. They won’t last long among the marshes.”
            The warrior stopped walking. He turned around, “In case you don’t remember, they killed the king, my wife, your children and Sarah’s coven. They may die soon but I’d rather kill them myself and know when and how they died.”
            The rogue went quiet. He limped along, leaning on the healer for support.
            “Yes?” replied the healer.
            “Do you have a map of the marshes?”
            “Yea, here,” Sarah dug into her pack and withdrew a scroll, “It’s old, fifty years past practical use.”
            “It’ll work.” The warrior took the map and opened it. After a few moments he rolled it up and handed it back to Sarah. “North,” was all he needed to say.


Oh and here is a little factoid for those who like trivia. The story started as a way to keep me from being bored after and exam my freshman year of high school. The first five to six paragraphs was actually written during that time frame. Everything else, and believe me there is a whole lot more come (hint, hint), was crafted at a later date.

~Anora Anakaya~

Monday, June 27, 2011

You Miss Us?


The L.I.F. crew is back and here to let you know we are still alive! Sorry to take such a long break, but the blog went underground in order to calm the chaos that we were dealing with in each of our lives. Nevertheless, the blog is back and we have a few treats for you! Joseph has more chapters to his fantastic story, A New Beginning, as we continue through Bruce's journey, while Anora has her always marvelous writing to keep your tastes appeased.

As for me, I will be slowly building up a new project on the site that I have been very secretive about; Not even my fellow bloggers know about this project. All I will tell you about it right now is that it's codenamed "Jokes". No this isn't a really late April Fool's joke, but don't worry I will be posting information and doing a little Q&A soon on the details, along with a new challenge and discussion that will have a lot to do with it. Speaking of jokes though, I thought it would be downright rude to leave without giving you a taste of the future, so here is a poem that Ms. Anora inspired me to write. Enjoy! :)

Put his life into words didn't he?

What A Joke

We call society’s outcasts freaks,

Labeling them for having a personality.

These people with nothing but pure desire,

Insanity brought about by humanity’s cruel fire.

Pocket knifes stealing the lives of a mother’s child,

Gang violence poisoning the mind into ignorant denial.

Yet worship is given to the monsters of this world,

Sitting fat onto a greed infested order.

Shooting, Killing,

Ruining the lives of the hard workers.

Creating these madmen that rape a father’s daughter.

Molding the psychopath that stabs a lady’s poor grandfather.

No one thinks of the ones who lose their world,

Until they are person screaming unjust.

Not realizing that this all steams

From a man who had one bad day.

Not realizing we are no different then him,

And he was only ahead of the curve.

So in that asylum,

We toss the loon, the freak inside.

Calling for his head,

Wishing he was dead,

The monster we gave birth to.

It’s too much ask,

To save a freak,

Because most the time we’re too late.

Yet every now and then comes freak,

Who can be save, but dies cause no one

Stands up and becames a little brave.

No, homo sapiens are content,

With excluding their own,

In a species that hates individuals,

Anyone too different from the world.

You call that girl,

The one who loves a little too dear,

A freak and crazy right beside her.

You name that Boy,

That loving boy,

A creeper and weirdo then egg them.

Then when hanging from rope,

You crack a few jokes,

Our people never truly caring we caused it.

Then we all go out,

To hear how they caught the real freaks.

HA! That’s a joke if I ever heard one.