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Tuesday, 29 March 2011

BLOG: Missed this week's Monday Musing... So is this now a Tuesday Tit Bit?

Wow, I said Tit. Ha Ha.

 Anyway, this weeks Monday musing was supposed to be about a new source of inspiration; his name is John Clare he's an interesting guy and used to come from Northamptonshire (County Boarders change every so often you see) he was known as "The Northamptonshire Peasant Poet" and after doing a presentation on him I decided to look into some more of his poetry...

 The verdict is for a guy who flipped his lid and wasn't very important it's pretty good. I really like it and thousands of you are now going to call me gay but I tried to pick the most masculine poet I could... Ok, so he's not masculine but his stories pretty cool. The bloke just went mad said he was married to a dead woman to her family then claimed to be the reincarnation of the King Of Shadows Shakespeare himself and Lord Byron and then abused Shylock in a production of The Merchant Of Venice. The dude's a fruitloop and probably not the best of role models but...

He's pretty interesting.

 Anyhow the 31st shall see some Dead West. CIASSOU! x

Saturday, 26 March 2011

BLOG: 100 Posts

Well, looking back at my dashboard and I've just seen I have hit 100 posts in a little time. Last September I had no idea what I was doing, now there seems to be a lot more structure; a lot more growth from me really.

 I think it's true over the 100 posts I have posted is that I have done some serious growing, in both writing structure and person and now I'm looking back and smiling to myself because even if it's just me: I am proud. Very proud actually. I've done a lot, had a lot of interest and I want it to keep going.

 So... How do I move on from this? It is a rather poignant question; do I sit here and get complacent or push for better? Well, there's no real choice to me. I need to keep going and reaching for better; if I was to put it as a mountain trek and that I need to reach the summit, there is no way I've reached that plateau yet.

 So expect:

  • More Poetry - I've recently fell in love with poetry, I blame Drew Coles and my English Literature class but I think it's a great literary form. I'd push a lot of writer to test themselves with poetry without a doubt.
  • More Stories - It was the start of this site and it will definitely be it's end.
  • More from me - I write this, this is my dream and I want your support so I promise to do more. 

100 posts is massive, huge even, I'm not going to get lazy at the last hurdle. I love writing... Believe it!

Monday, 21 March 2011

MONDAY MUSING: Writing hasn't been at the forefront of my mind...

I know right? The title's pretty shocking because if you know me well enough, then, you'll know that I'm always half inside the real world and half inside the lands that I create in my head with this weird imagination thing I have.

 I'm not sure what it's been: the fact that I was ill, laziness or even stress and school work but the truth is, I haven't wanted to write alot. Not at all almost. I've thought about a few lines of poetry and a concept or two but not in the way I usually do but in a more dismissive way. I'm not sure...

 I think it maybe the fact I'm just tired it's getting hard on the school front hardly any time left until those all to important life changing exams and that so I better get on it quick. Maybe that's why writing hasn't been like top priority maybe my mind is telling me indirectly that I need to buckle up abit more even though I already work hard (it appears as though I don't to some but I do) and make the grade so I can get where I want to be next year...

 Like I said, the whole situation is wrapped in mystery and honestly...
At least I know it's not a block.

 So, please, just to let you know; don't expect too much of me ladies and gentle germs because I just don't think it's going to happen with me feeling as I am. Anyway, CIASSOU! x

Monday, 14 March 2011

MONDAY MUSING: Growing Up is Growing Old.

You've all heard it teenagers; your parents or cohorts moaning for you to "grow up" and "to get a grip" but the thing is do you really want to grow up? Do you not already have a firm grip on reality? Because if growing up is about living your life in misery because that's what "growing up" is, I want no part in it personally. In fact I'd rather be a modern day Peter Pan, not in a Michael Jackson sense but a more... metaphorical sense where I just refuse to grow up and I suppose I already do...

 I mean you can see me in the common room on my DS getting too into my Pokemon battle, or you can see me often doing something stupid. Why not? it's fun. I like it, I enjoy living my youth at 18 and I know thousands of teenagers and kids all over the world think that too. That being young is fun. So why can't we not act like kids any more? I know we're in a world were Rhianna or Lady Gaga will release a song about dirty sex and kids in their naivety will sing along without a care in the world because they don't know what it means. Sex is everywhere too on the internet, violence with gang culture and all that sort of stuff but kids are kids; teens are teens. Why force them to grow up?

 Maybe it's not growing up that's the problem though, I suppose it's people's interpretations of the act of growing up. Some think it's literally growing taller, some think it's personality wise, some think it's residing yourself to realise that life is one big disappointment. So I may not grow up in some peoples eyes as I try to live life to the full, do stupid stuff and do things that people don't find "age appropriate" for me. But y'know what? I'm happy. Don't you think happiness is what matters? That growing up is about being happy.

 I have a grip, I have a voice and I will shout till my lungs collapse if needs be. Some say growing up is optional, I can agree and disagree but what really is growing up? And if we know what it is, is it going to be exciting anymore?

Sunday, 6 March 2011

*NEW* DEAD WEST - Prologue

(AUTHOR'S NOTES: Well, something new for you my chumly wums something inspired by Red Dead infact. released monthly in chapters, if it happens that way...)





The Wild West was known to have some wild characters; yet, none were as wild as the bunch gathered in the Salt over the Shoulder Casino in the town of Chance. The patron Mr. House looked over the poker table with a strange amount of interest that night and so did another scruffy individual who lowered his Stetson hat when he began to attract too much attention. What was attracting their attention was in fact another flashy individual by the name of Michael Mitchell. The card player, also known as “The Spider” was known for having one hand on the table and an extra seven underneath it. He hadn’t lost a hand and the patron and the dealer both signalled to one and other which brought Mr. House and the scruffy cowboy to the table as well. “New players have joined big blind at $20 and small at $15. Are you in sir?” The scruffy cowboy nodded and Michael smiled stroking his perfectly trimmed beard “You sure you can handle it kiddo, this ain’t no playground, the big boys play at this table…”
“Don’t worry, I’m real big.” Said the rouge dropping down his $20 big blind and nodded towards the dealer to start the game, the Spider waited patiently for his hand and then two cards glided across the table towards him. The scruffy cowboy stroked his own stubble and checked his cards patiently; “It’s your move Michael…” he said smiling to himself “You’re not too scared are you?” Michael looked at the three cards in the river: the three of clubs, ace of spades and the four of diamonds. He looked at his own hand. It was nothing special a king and a queen. Yet, it only took him a second and a slide of his hand to turn the two cards into the aces of hearts and diamonds. He smiled, throwing down another $20 as if it was nothing to him. He sat silently, Mr House still witnessing the game first hand and the dealer sweating that if Mr House thought it was something to do with the poor runaway; Mr House would not hesitate to take the boy round the back of the casino and line his head full of lead himself. This game had a lot more at stake then a simple few dollars…
 As the game went forward into the night and more and more whisky made its way to the table courtesy of Mr House. Michael was letting his pride once again get the best of him, the plan was to lose small but win big. Yet, he had over done it, the house was now suspicious of his methods and he knew what the whisky was for, it was there for him to slip up. That’s why he hadn’t touched it. Neither did the scruffy looking cowboy, whom over the course of the game had reached a plateau with Michael. They were both all in at $150. Who ever was going to win would walk away a very, very happy man but the Spider with his pride, refused to be beaten by some unknown who had just sat down. He seemed to have no skill and had hardly said a word. He only ever spoke as if to goad Spider into making mistakes. He thought he hadn’t, except for one. He hadn’t learnt this man’s name. “So, sir, do you mind sharing with us some information more illusive then your hand?” asked Spider, taking off his hat and running his free hand through his cropped hair “Cause, the way I see it, you got nothing but a pair. The highest card you have is four. Show me.”
 The scruffy cowboy lifted his Stetson from over his eyes and smiled gleefully towards Spider “My name is Paul Graham; and I have three of a kind, three aces – spades, hearts and diamonds.” Paul finally took a swig of Mr House’s finest whisky and Spider not wanting to seem weak dusted off his coat, smiled and masked the panic that was now welling up inside him. He looked at his cards “Well, Spider show us.” goaded Paul. The cards once again, as if by magic changed into a two and a five. Suddenly he had a straight and he flipped both cards in an extravagant motion making them flip forwards.
“Flush beats three of a kind,” said the dealer “Mr Mitchell wins.”
 There was the sound of a gun cocking and Michael about to leave the table had the strangest feeling that an iron was pointed straight at him, when he turned around he saw the sawn-off shotgun in Paul Graham’s hand and the Stetson once again over his eyes. “You’re coming with me Spider,” he said menacingly puling out another sawn-off shotgun from his duster “You’re wanted for fraud, cheating and theft from the saloon over the hill in Justice.” The bounty hunter as Paul was now revealed to be edged towards Spider taking his winnings and took out his rope. Mr House, enraged watched as Michael’s hands were tied and he was lead outside and tied to Paul’s horse.
 The horse was black, magnificent and stood like a proud giant with its head held high. Michael though, saw the whole situation as funny “I was about to say, that if you couldn’t stand losing don’t take a seat.”
“Only seat you’re gunna be having is a nice cold bench with two other guys in the slammer, Spider, try cheating your way out of that.”
“So how much they wanting for me in justice nowadays?”
“About $550.”
“Tough gig, huh boy?”
“I ain’t your boy Spider, now shut up or I’ll gag you as we make our 2 day trek to Justice and hell I may even forget to let you drink or even shit.”
 Michael’s bots jingled as he trudged behind the horse, his polished spurs glinting in the moonlight. The horse was pulling the weight but wishing to go faster. The silence that had been present for the past two hours was almost unbearable to Spider; he fidgeted relentlessly scratching at the chaffing ropes. He straightened his hat, looked towards the bounty hunter upon his horse and sighed. “You don’t think my slight of hand is only for cards, do you Paul?”
“Well, if so why haven’t you escaped Michael?”
“Cause I’m interested in you Paul,” cried Michael “You’re something, y’know. You knew I was cheating all alone, I knew you were lying, so how about we split that money me an’ you and we go and chase another bounty.” Paul’s horse came to an abrupt stop and Michael walked into the back of it rather suddenly.
 “You think that I’m just gunna turn tale and go outlaw with you Spider?” asked Paul getting off his horse, taking his water canteen off his pack and throwing it towards his prize. “You be one crazy son of a bitch.”
“It’s something we have in common because you ain’t gunna turn no money in Paul, $550 for me $300 winnings. You almost have a grand.” The card shark slipped his ropes with eases and waved his free hands about with such theatricality that he almost fell over. “See, waiting for the opportunity dear Paul,” laughed Michael “You have no gun, are too far from your horse to get one before I pull my own pistol out and if you’ve done your homework… I am a crack shot, a great crack shot.”
 The bounty hunter took off his Stetson and raised his hands in the air. He was also smiling and soon the two of them were laughing loudly at one and other.  Spider wiped his eyes of the tears laughing had brought to his face and Paul fell on the floor and was now sitting in the sand.
 The two of them stared at one and other as they both soon sat in the sand, a fire roaring between the two of them and the pair of them chatting like old friend cracked out the whisky and began to look back on their lives. Michael sat in awe of Paul whom had tracked him town by town, picked up the pieces and finally found him in chance a small town built on gambling. The reverse was the same with Paul admiring Spider’s theatricality and confidence to show off his talent for deception; the more they talked the more Spider’s offer became appealing.
“So, why a bounty hunter?” asked Spider, half drunk.
“So, why a card shark?” retorted Paul in return, raising his tin cup and meeting Spider’s with a clunk. “Y’know Paul,” said Spider staring into the fire “You ain’t half bad, do you want to conquer the West with me?” The question however unbelievable set a glint in Michael’s eye which would make any man believe that he was sincere. The truth was he did want to conquer the West; he just needed the team to do it. He was looking at Paul to be its start; he wanted the ultimate gang of outlaws to achieve wealth beyond their wildest dreams. He didn’t care by what means they achieved their goal. He just wanted it to happen and Paul was also feeling the ambition. “You crazy son of a bitch Michael Mitchell, whatever you wonna do I want in.” laughed Paul “Me and you Spider, we’re gunna take on the world!”
  The two of them fell back and stared at the night sky, their drunken ramblings making them look upwards. “You think God will be angry at us?” asked Spider.
“Why?”  Queried Paul confused.
“Cause I hear he’s a good friend of Lady Luck, and we’re gunna need her on our side if we’re gunna go pulling this off, y’hear?”