ForumsArt, Music, and WritingJeol: The Resuscitation

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jeol
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jeol
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I need no introduction. Oh, wait, I guess that's a little late. As you may have guessed, this is the infamous Jeol's thread.

So this morning, I was on my way to the co-op I take classes at thinking about my speech, when out of the blue comes a story. About a land named Rhyme. So, in the class I made my speech in after my speech, I started to work on one of my first poems that wasn't inspired by the 'First Line Poetry' thread, a quatrain.

Rhymes of Rhyme - a quatrain.
Once upon a time,
in the land of Rhyme,
rhyming was so prime,
it sparked such a fine time.

There was a man named Pine
in the land of Rhyme
who rhymed so prime,
it made ev'rybody cry.

When the man died,
it made the country dry
for the prime of their rhymes,
and the rhymes lost their shine.

In times since then,
in the land of Rhyme,
rhyming was so bland,
no one ever rhymed again.

Yes, the non-rhyming of the last stanza was intentional. Yes.

I will post other creations and whatnot in the future.

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MoonFairy
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Julius?
This is... a tame suspense, if that makes sense. Since it is in the real world, and sounds about accurate enough to your life, it lacks the oomph in the suspense, because there isn't really a huge threat, or enough... development in the story. But I'll be watching. *walks out with creepy stalker laugh*
Oh wait, I'm allowed to keep an eye on it, I'm the secretary 8D

jeol
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Gotta Pan - a haiku - HC.

Settlers rush West,
Panning willingly for gold
Hoping to strike rich.

jeol
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Next chapter is in! Yeah, I'm tired.

Chapter 3!

"Hello, Phil," Julius greeted with a smirk. What was he doing here? He was a defensive linebacker in football. Was he really willing to give up football so he could annoy me more?

I honestly never really felt like all Julius wanted to do has just bug me. I felt like he had something far deeper, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Whatever it was, I was sure I wouldn't like it. "What're you doing here?"

"The coach asked if I could help with the frisbee team, and I accepted," he replied with a glint in his eye. Great, I thought. So not only is Julius on the team, but we have no coach. I sighed.

Julius turned to face a few other people, likely on the team also. "Next practice is at seven tomorrow evening," and he left. Great. This was going to go well.

--

When I got home, I dropped my stuff by the stairs and trudged into the kitchen. Grabbing an apple from the bowl, I began to munch on it when my mom walked into the kitchen. "Hey. How was school?"

"Mediocre, as usual."

"Do you have much homework to do?"

"A little."

"Meet any new friends?"

"No, just met old ones," I said in a sarcastic tone.

"You didn't see Julius again, did you?"

"Sadly. He's heading the Frisbee team."

"Oh." She sighed. "Well, don't eat too much. Supper is in an hour."

"What are we eating?"

"Meatloaf."

I sighed. "Sounds good." With that, I leapt up the stairs and went into my room. Ugh. I really needed to clean my room. With a deep breath, I emerged myself into the piles of clothes and other junk that infested my room. I divided the piles of stuff into four piles: clean clothes, dirty clothes, junk, and stuff I needed. Eventually, the two piles of clothes emerged into one when I couldn't tell the differrences between the clean and the dirty. They all smelled just as bad. Holding my nose, I picked up as many of the clothes as I could and threw them into my laundry basket and picked up the clothes I left. Under a stray shirt, I found a piece of electronics. Oh no. It was my harddrive that had the C++ project on it. It was smashed to its end, most likely from the many times I trudged on it during the week I neglected it to practice Frisbee with my sister. All the hard work I put into it during the summer became nothing. I sighed and threw it into the overflowing trashcan. Then, hearing the call for supper, I went downstairs to eat one of my favorite meals. Plopping down at the dinner table, I sighed. At least it can't get much worse. How could I be wrong?

jeol
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Man. I just realized how unclear it is.

"The coach asked if I could help with the frisbee team, and I accepted," he replied with a glint in his eye. Great, I thought. So not only is Julius on the team, but we have no coach. I sighed.

That is, the football coach requested Julius captain the Frisbee team.

There's prolly more, I'm just really tired. :/
MoonFairy
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Well, you could've saved it, then when you got a nap or whatever you could of added on. But hey, this was a good update, I just... want to know why Julius is so bad.

jeol
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I just... want to know why Julius is so bad.

You shall learn, you shall leaarn :P

I think it might be in the next chapter... Or it might not be.
MoonFairy
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I think it might be in the next chapter... Or it might not be.

You are learning the ways of the suspense well, young grasshoppah.
jeol
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The next chapter. (I won't say anything else 'cause I don't want to ruin it for you :P)

Weeks passed, and no incident yet occured. Every day, though, Julius seemed to be getting giddier and giddier, and, at times, more impatient. What freaked me out most was the fact that he had been acting awfully nice to me recently. While I myself have always tried to make friends with him (and friends with everyone in general), his actions made me rather suspicious. However, my amiability overruled my thoughts. I did my best to ignore Julius' awkward actions and enjoy playing Frisbee with him.

Our first game was within the week against a rival school. It was evident that our team was improving each and every practice. The now seemingly-friendly Julius invited me to stay a bit later for one of the practices. I almost declined, but my seriously annoying amiability shone through.

The Frisbee scrimmages were getting intense. One might think that the Frisbee was all his, when out of the blue someone would come and slam the Frisbee to the ground. Some of the most epic throws and catches came about, all from the fingers and hands of the players, in whatever wacky way in whatever wacky position. I honestly could not understand why Julius wanted me to stay after practice, because pretty much everyone else on the team was better than him. Yet, after practice was over, I decided to stay. Julius approached. "Can you get the helmets from the equipment room?"

My head spun. Why the helmets? I thought. A million thoughts began spinning through my head, from 'What should I do?' to 'What is he planning to do?' I was so nervous I couldn't speak for a moment.

"Please?" Julius requested.

Upon the last question, I walked around the stands until I found the equipment room. Hesitantly, I stepped inside and looked for the helmets. I picked two up and went to go back outside. The door was shut. I groped for a doorhandle in the darkness. Nothing. No latch, not even a bump. Then I felt it. It was a hole, where the doorhandle used to be. Oh crap. I sighed tensely. Julius, really? Wanting to see the lack of a doorhandle better, I searched the wall for a light switch. Finally finding something plasticy with a tiny switch on it, I flipped the knob. Then, out of the corner of my eye, something the size of a baseball scurried out of sight. My next thought was so clear I could almost hear it out loud: Um. What was that?

jeol
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Next part. Probably not the end of the chapter. Also, I decided to shy away from the first-person view, for many reasons. Hope you like.

At late evening around 10PM, screams were heard at the stands. Inside the equipment room, Phil was running around, being chased by a large spider. He ran around a corner and stood behind a rack, trying to catch a quick breath. There was nothing more that Phil hated than spiders, especially hairy ones, not to mention he being very allergic to them. He grabbed the edge of the shelf and was about to look for the spider when he felt something crawling on his arm. Tensely, he slowly drew his hand away from the shelf. freaked out, he tried to shake the large, black spider off his arm, anything to get away from it, when a fierce pain jolted from his right arm. A foul taste invaded his mouth, a mixture of blood and bile. Able to stand no longer, he wiped it off, grabbed a bat with his left hand, and smashed the spider on the ground. Panting, he dropped to the floor and fell unconcious.

--

It was early morning. Julius got up from his bunk to do some stretches. He marvelled at his recently-cleaned room. He decided that it was time to do so when the piles of clothes began to reek a foul odor, and all his clothes began to have the same scent. It surprised him that his mom let that slip for so long. He wondered if he had actually worn anything clean for a few weeks before he took them down to wash them. Now he had space to stretch out on the off-white carpet. Looking closer at the floor, he noticed tiny bits of paper and lint scattered along the carpet. Ugh. It should probably be vacuumed. He looked over to the corner. Still an empty cage.

After his last stretch, Julius put on some jogging clothes and ran to the school fields, not far from his house. Honestly, he wanted to see how Phil held up over the night. Reaching the fields, he strolled to the equipment room humming. The football coach had given him the key so that he could get the Frisbees as he needed. He unlocked the door and opened it. Inside, Phil lay sprawled on the floor, a bat in his hand and his arm bleeding profusely. Julius quickly grabbed the phone in his pocket and pressed the buttons '9 - 1 - 1'. Suddenly, he heard a female voice behind him.

"Julius?" The teenage girl paused a few feet from Julius. seeing the body on the floor of the equipment room she screamed and asked, "Did you do this?"

--

jeol
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Okay! A break for poetry. :P
The Key to Paradise - a poem - FLP, inspired by Tacky.

The key to paradise
is locked behind a door.
Don't expect to find it soon,
'cause behind the curtain the door remains.

Hidden from all suggestions
locked from all distractions
the praised key stands still
never to be touched by mortal hands.

jeol
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Another poem, for the 10-day poetry contest. Great topic (Direction).

Star-tripping - a poem, 10DPC.

Spinning 'round and 'round,
You can't tell where you're facing.
Stopping and being blinded, you know:
Gravity is pulling to the ground.

Though you may have stopped
And are sure that you aren't moving
Your world is still spinning 'round
Until to the ground you've dropped.

There on the ground you close your eyes
Dieing to get out of this circl'ing madness
You open you eyes and look straight up
To watch one thing that remains in place:
The skies.

You lie there on the frozen ground
Blindness and a headache storm your mind
Suddenly one by one the stars appear
And above the north star is to be found.

Though still you may be confused,
You wobble to your feet again,
Then finding your friend, you walk, and
He gives you a flashlight to be used.

Then spinning 'round and 'round,
He loses his sense of direction,
He stops for a moment and being blinded,
Down he falls to where gravity is pulling:
The ground.

jeol
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Frozen Moments - a poem - FLP, insp. Waluigi.

Frozen heat,
Like a moment trapped in eternity.
It is trapped in time,
Never to be seen or touched again.

Frozen dreams,
Locked in a cellar,
Hidden in a jar,
To be ignored.

Frozen moments,
Precious memories.
Locked away from time
It itself being a piece.

A slice of cake,
A piece of time,
Both are locked in a freezer,
Never meant to be touched again.

Frozen heat,
No matter how deadly,
Was a moment in itself,
Lived once, but never again.

What liveliness,
Moments full of life and heat,
Yet trapped inside a bottle
And frozen for memory's sake.

--

Sorry for a lack of story. I locked myself in a pickle - I don't really know how to write the next part well. Hmeh. Maybe I'll just take out the girl. Makes life so much easier. Besides, she kind of messed up the flow. :/

So! In that matter, there is no more female wading behind Julius. FYI, she was supposed to be Julius's girlfriend, Brittany. I don't think she really liked him all that much - she thought he was always up to something.

jeol
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Okay! This be from the Tile project thingy.

http://img220.imageshack.us/img220/3137/iwashere.jpg

And... I should probably write... And finish the story... So I can fix it... And edit it... And whatnot...

jeol
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With some encouragement from Tacky, I decided to look through some phootage I had been avoiding because they required a lot of attention... While digging through, I found a flower I had not posted before, so it was about time to submit it. Soo.... Submitted!

Maverick4
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Out of curiosity? Are you French? The Parnassians were a sect of French Poets I believe, so... Of course, today a 'arnassian' is just a fancy word for a poet, so I could be overthinking this...

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