Testing

Just dusting off the keyboard. Get ready my audience.

Be ready, ghosts of the past.

Food

I think that my family is the worst with groceries.

When i want a snack , there's a process i go through. It goes somewhat like a flow chart.

1. Check fridge

2. Is there something i can microwave?

3. No. Check cabinet. Look at top shelf

4. No Cereal. Check middle shelf.

5. No chips. Check bottom shelf.

6. No fruit bars. Check in the back of each shelf.

7. Found 2 year old bag of Cheetos. Success?

8. Expired last year. Attempt to drive to market.

9. Parents home? No. My car is in the driveway though....

10. Keys left at home? Yes. Do I have my license. No.

11. Fail. Start actually cooking and make myself dinner.

12. Go back to fridge. Found chicken marinated last night.

13. Grill. Eat with heated rice.

14. Mediocre Success!

15. Wait about an hour.

16. Repeat entire process.

Spring Break

Yeah, Spring Break.

'Nuff said

A Lost Art

A part of me has been severed. No longer will this passion of mine be able to create a melody in which I can express myself. The strings of the piano downstairs will stay ever quiet.


I have decided to stop having piano lessons.

Even though now I have no official training, I will put my 10 years of previous learning to learn the works of Chopin, Mozart, and Bach on my own.


It will be a tougher road without the help of my piano teacher. This is more a tribute to my years with her than anything else. I think her patient teachings and constant reminders to "put a sharp on the D" created the pianist I am instead of the innate talent I was born with.

I will miss her and the lessons I learn while under her wing.

During the phone conversation in which I informed her I would stop taking lessons, she asked to keep in touch. No doubt I will.

I now look at my title and think it's misleading. You cannot lose a talent.

I will never forget to play piano. I will never forget my teacher.



Play on.

Why We Don't Go to Ravenholm

2012. I work in an institute named East Black Mesa. We are a research institution, but dont expect to see our findings anywhere. We have to be discreet in order to protect our research and ourselves.

A newcomer came today. We were assigned to crate transport. Boring work. As we stroll around, he points and asks me, "Why is the passageway to Ravenholm blocked off?"

I pause. I guess he saw my sudden halt because he then asked, "Should I not ask?"

I cry. My mind goes back to the painful night. The night when Ravenholm died.

------


I sigh. Once again the sun sets on our town of Ravenholm. It feels like a curse, as our town is a refuge from those hiding from the Combine.

Those bastards. They essentially take the strongest citizens from each city and turn them into alien hybrid soldiers.

Our city motto is simple, "Born with Freedom. Fight for Freedom." This city has managed to stay off the radar of the Combine, but we have no idea when a raid could come.

I am standing on the patio of my house, just admiring the golden sky when the siren goes off.

Oh no.

Combine dropships fly across the sky. The once organic monsters now carry a belly full of Combine soldiers.

I guess tourist season just started.

I turn back into the house where my revolver is.



I hate tourists.



- End

----


I always wanted to do a fan fiction. I just played around with the Ravenholm chapter of Half-Life 2. I might continue with this story if i feel like it. Honestly I really dont have a plan for it to go anywhere.

And so it shall be....

Derivative

Something has been missing from my latest posts. Something that is very small and may not matter to the reader, but does me me.

I have been neglecting my usual ending phrase: "And so it shall be..."

Why is that? Bored in my Pierce College Psychology class, i pondered this reason.

1. Its just a phrase.

2. It shouldn't matter if I use it or not. The content is important, not the conclusion itself.

3. I should not miss it, and neither should the readers.

But somehow it feels like I'm obligated to end my posts with the same phrase i was using about 3 years ago. Hm, what is this? A progression? An evolution? Maybe.

I can safetly assume that my writing style has changed over the years. Is it so shocking that i choose to leave out a writing mechanic that i have used before?

Hmmmm, why the pondering over a simple matter of a simple phrase? Maybe i consider it my own personal call-off sign. Therefore, losing this phrase is losing my own sense of personal identity.

On to other matters.

I am going to experiment. Next post will be a short story.

"Why We Don't Go to Ravenholm"

And so it shall be...

Mario Kart

"You Bitch!", i whisper to my friend as his Yoshi cart completely destroys my Dry Bones with a red shell.

Its 5th period. Frankly, Roy and I are the perfect examples of how not to behave in a academic classroom. Yet, we dont care, and we still manage to pull of an 'A' despite our horrible horrible attitudes towards 5th period English.

Therefore, we sit one in front of the other with DS's in our hands. But the DS Roy is holding isn't his. It's Jacob's. However, we all rotate DS's to play 1v1's while the rest of the class starts reading Shakespeare.

Soon more challengers arrive. Marika joins the fray as Peach while Mitchell plays as Shy Guy. Batel and Jackie are now racing each other while we stand by as onlookers and our English teacher drones on, oblivious to our enjoyment.

Now people are discussing the amazing wi-fi ability of the DS and the ability of only one game cartridge needed for multiplayer. In Laymen terms, Your friend doesnt need to have the game to play with you, he can simply download the game off of your DS wirelessly. People want one, and people all around the classroom promise to bring their's from now on so that we can have a giant race.

Ladies and Gentlemen, start your engines.

Macbeth

We have just started this wonderful play. Although i cannot understand the true meaning of his words, I use the "No Fear Shakespeare" in order to actually understand what the fuck Macbeth is about.

I have fond memories of my brother doing a video on this. Let us speak of it no more.

Because now I have to create a video with my friends on a scene of Macbeth.

Stars, hide your fires!
Let not light see my black and deep desires- Macbeth*

*so far my favorite quote

Eulogy

A friend. A playmate. A family member.

He was all of them. He was there when I needed a break from the hectic human world. Together we would run freely around the neighborhood. While i would enjoy the sights, he would boldly mark his territory.

As a playmate he would not understand the rules of the game. Instead he would create them. He would modify the conventional game of "Fetch" into a game of "I dare Clyde to take this ball out of my mouth!" We would then struggle for the ball, snarling and staring each other down.

A family member. There is no doubt he was. He was a part of our dinners. He was a part of the holidays. He was the most committed, i daresay, because he was there on EVERY holiday.

He was also a part of the everlasting love of our family. I am fortunate to have such a caring family that depends and supports one another. He was no exception, giving us the unconditional love that we as humans struggle to give.

I regret to say that this friend, this playmate, this family member has passed away. On the night of his death, I heard him howl his last words. I simply ignored them, but the sound of his Death Cry will stay with me.

It will not haunt me, because I am sure he was giving his last goodbye.

I will miss you Baekom.

No Longer a Throne

Damn, this chair is comfy, i've forgotten how it feels to be sitting here.

However, things aren't right with this chair anymore.

1. Its too high. Now that i'm a little bit older i realize that as a writer i cannot express myself as if I'm preaching. (Thank you big bro).

2. Its too rigid. I realize that arrogance was one of my traits back in the old days. Lets call them the Dark Ages, and bring some light into the present situation.

3. It was in a cramped room. Now, it does not matter what my audience is. This writing is solely for me to express my thoughts and stories. I consider this a public journal where i will try to entertain an audience, if present.

Therefore, i do not call this writing chair a throne. This is not a chair that will demonstrate my mastery of the English language. Instead, let us call this a living room couch. Let it seat whoever is willing to sit down with me and listen to my stories.

Let us begin with a familiar phrase...

And so it begins....

I'm free.

Burden

I sit down, my desk reminds me of the empty space inside of my backpack. The space, which was supposed to be occupied by a schoolbook, was patiently lying on a wooden desk at a house. I panic, ive been negligent due to the previous week of STAR testing. For those who dont know, STAR testing was basically "do test and go home early" week.

Regardless to say, the only thing you needed was a pencil.

So, due to my laziness, i forgot to put everything BACK into my backpack and therefore have forgotten what i needed most.

This certain teacher does the homework problems in alphabetical order, so i helplessly sat at my empty desk while the names dwindled down from my last name.

Finally my name was called. I respond that i dont have my book.

All hell breaks loose from the teachers mouth, as words ramble on out of its mouth, spewing sentences as if to corrode my ego. It melts the rest of whatever dignity i had left by deducting an absurd amount of points just for not bringing a book.

Class nears the end, i patiently stand up tall, grab my backpack and walk out the door with a straight face while the inside of me rages.

It seems like my backpack was heavier from when i first came in class.

And so it shall be.........