A Series of Creativity-Induced Quests

You can only do something uniquely once. How will you do it?

Fri, 12 Apr 2013 17:06:08 -0400

I have decided to try and rediscover my optimism but add in a whole lot more happiness.

I’d like to start using my Tumblr again and post cool stuff about my adventures around Kingston and the world. To kick it off, I’m going to have a week of happiness; I’m going to shy away from dramas and horror films and instead enjoy some comedies! I could use a good laugh ^_^

I dabbled in painting - so much fun ^__^

Sun, 03 Jun 2012 17:52:45 -0400

I dabbled in painting - so much fun ^__^

Psycho

Sat, 05 May 2012 13:02:00 -0400

It was so simple!

I stood up and stabbed the fool in his face.

The blood drained ever so slowly…

It trickled down his nose.

I knew the feeling;

I hated it when things did that…

It reminded me of mosquitos buzzing around

Or sweat running down my face.

The sensation! The prickling!

Oh, it’s too much to bear.

Once you indulge yourself, however…

Oh, well, that is when things feel good.

The moment that an itch is scratched,

A euphoric comfort sinks in.

Yet when you scratch an itch,

Or itch a scratch,

It always seems as if another

Takes its place elsewhere.

More!

I need more.

I remove the blade from the shocked corpse.

I stab the only witness.

She was too plain to just have run away -

Instead she just gawked.

And now she was dead!

A glee,

an uncontrollable bliss,

surges through my soul.

Another, must find another.

The feeling has returned.

Engarde!

Look out, stab!

Slice.

Dozens of simpleton fall to my blade.

Impossible.

I just scratched.

I should feel better now,

And yet I feel the same.

Splurt! Nothing!

I actually feel worse.

I’ve begun to dig into the skin.

It hurts so much.

But the itch,

It needs to be relieved…

This is unfair.

I want things to be like they were before.

I want the satisfaction,

the pleasure,

and the thrill.

Why is it gone?!

I need a way out.

The flesh is gone;

I am simply bone.

But is that even bone?

It is much more hard and ice-cold.

It seems robotic.

My actions happen immediately,

And it no longer hurts.

I’ve dug out the flesh and left

only the bones of efficiency.

I continue onwards.

I persevere.

Eventually, the oil wears,

And the machine slows.

Those who have followed

have finally arrived.

They place me in my throne.

It is here

where my achievements come to fruition;

It is here

where I can finally feel again.

Getting Off

Fri, 04 May 2012 23:35:04 -0400

A couple plagued by familiarity,

Stress and burden,

Sit behind computers in offices

At either end of the house.

The husband, to a stranger, writes:

“Hey baby, still want that good time?”

The wife to another stranger:

“Ooo fill me up, you stud.”

That night the couple do meet,

husband announcing his business trip.

How convenient! The wife thinks,

she has some “business” of her own.

With a slight, dry, uncaring kiss,

They depart.

The husbands waits off the road,

Nervousness tickles him,

The excitement gets him off.

The wife gets into a stranger’s vehicle;

She readily prepares for the

Approaching infidelity.

The couple stares at each other

In bemused bewilderment -

The husband had rented a truck;

It was in this vehicle he would make love.

The wife, craving action,

The husband, desiring pleasure,

Connect lip and tongue with the other.

For a solid, love-filled hour,

The couple feel alive and free.

After a climactic finish,

the husband props himself up.

“So with how many men have you done this before?”

“Only twenty-four.”

The whore!

On Board

Fri, 04 May 2012 23:07:00 -0400

The bus slowly departs,

leaving the station,

entering the

unknown.

The first stop,

adventure starts,

and passengers transcend.

He is not on the bus.

Master Quest Theater 3

Tue, 17 Apr 2012 23:14:00 -0400

What happens if you don’t take action? There are many instances throughout history and current life that are a prime example of this. Look into the eyes of some of the powerful people that you meet: some will be beaming with passion, while many will look dead inside; their actions, emotions, and responses are robotic in nature. The latter are the ones who are not doing what they genuinely wished to do in life. They may be powerful, but, inside, they are brittle. See the case of J. Edgar Hoover, the Director of the FBI from 1924 to 1972: the man had ultimate control over presidents, high-ranking business officials, and any citizen in the United States, but he lived with his mother until the age of 43, led an order-controlled life, never wedded, and was also known to be a repressed homosexual. Several rumours were said behind closed doors about him dressing as a ballerina and spending awkward moments with children while doing so. Many might see this as a fair trade off (everyone deserves their own opinion,) but there are certainly numerous more humans suffering from the same staleness in their life with lesser positions. If you do not act, you may very well be ‘successful,’ but your creativity and passion may be suppressed in the process.

Master Quest Theater 2

Wed, 11 Apr 2012 23:12:33 -0400

Numerous signs will show up in your life. You will notice some - while others will completely fly over your head. From there, you will disregard even more of these signs.I could never do that! … Sure, that only happens in stories. … Why would I want that?might cross your mind at some point. However, you will have one that speaks to you deeply at a pinnacle point. This sign is so sincere that it will surpass these automated defenses. It will strike you at your core, and you will feel violated. You might become confused and try to shrug it off, or you may break down and let the idea consume you. However you deal with it, this sign could very well be the start of the most frightening but rewarding adventure of your life.

Master Quest Theater I

Sun, 08 Apr 2012 23:11:36 -0400

It’s about being brought down to Earth - taking the space cadet back to a sustainable orbit. You excelled and obtained something far above that of many others, but things have taken a dramatic turn downwards due to unexpected events. You still remain in the position that you earned, but life seems wretched - it has slowed and become stagnant. The world has become black and white, and the luster that made life worthwhile has disappeared.

Procrastination

Wed, 14 Mar 2012 23:57:01 -0400

Orbiting

Objectives

Yields

Yearnful

Memories

Enveloping

Time

~Created by selecting the third letter of 7 songs appearing on a random play list in iTunes.

A book sculpture.

Wed, 07 Mar 2012 19:40:54 -0500

A book sculpture.

Seperation

Mon, 05 Mar 2012 16:31:03 -0500

The slightest of pains strike my chest

With piercing precision into

My heart.

She is unlike all of the rest

And demands wherever I go

My Mind.

When reunited, we bask in

The heat of her body against

My body.

The raw passion make my world spin.

No time or pain has cause against

Our love.

Volatile

Sun, 04 Mar 2012 22:26:02 -0500

arramelsyn:

Inconstant.

Short and sweet but powerful

A Modern Adventure

Sun, 04 Mar 2012 20:30:00 -0500

Time was of the essence; I had to make it.

The heat was rather strenuous for December, and I had to regulate my heart rate in order to prevent excessive sweating – I would be seeing the love of my life, after all. To turn into a wild, sweaty monstrosity… The thought was unbearable.

My final exam was finished, and a portion of my life was packed away into three large bags: a suitcase, a knapsack, and a laptop bag. The bunch weighed an incredible amount, but I persevered – I knew the price that I would pay for such necessary luxuries. I lugged the luggage from my room and turned for a moment to reflect on what I was leaving. The room was tidy and clinically-clean, but it did not have the warmth of the love that I was destined to feel. The dilemma that stood between myself and that dreamy feeling was hundreds of miles of road, several different forms of transportation, and a tight time-limit.

I had done this journey many times before, but it was much different this time around. There would be no ride for me to hop on to take me directly home once I got off of my bus, as per usual. Instead, after enduring the bus-ride, I would have to make my way across town to the Go-Train terminal. It seemed easy when it was planned, but it was a completely foreign, frightening idea on day zero.

The taxi-driver helped me move my luggage into his car, and we sped off towards the bus-stop. The land was very calm, but my heart pounded uncontrollably. I controlled my breathing and kept my eyes on the prize. It was a very peculiar feeling; I was terrified of the unknown, but the thought of seeing my love excited me. Together, they formed a percussion that shook through my entire being. When the taxi finally arrived at my destination, I paid him and quickly jumped out to inhale fresh air.

I felt more at ease. However, I turned around to see a line forming and a large bus flashing Toronto via Kingston. Here it was… the first step in getting to my love.

I got into the line and prepared my plan in my head. I would need my entire luggage with me in order to get off at my appropriate stop. I was getting off just before the Go Train station, and I recalled that they would not let those who got off to obtain anything from the baggage compartment. I made this plan knowing that I might be denied, and I was praying ever-so-softly that I they would not prevent this plan from unfolding properly. The alternative, if this plan failed, seemed indecipherable for my over-excited mind.

I approached the front of the line, and the attendant went for my suitcase.

“I do say, good sir, would it be possible for me to attend my baggage on the journey?” I bequeathed of him.

“Nai, feller, we gotta put it underneath,” he replied, without a hint of remorse.

“Egag, however am I to get off on my stop?”

“Shoulda thought ‘bout that before ye packed like a girl!”

With that, he took my luggage and threw it beneath the vehicle’s hull. I sat near the front in order to watch how many people were getting onto the bus. Once the all of the passenger were on, I jumped off the bus and spoke to the attendant once more.

“Sir, I understand your need for policy, but there is a spot open beside me where I might place my suitcase. Would you kindly allow me to do so?” I asked ever-so-kindly.

“Nai, it be too far in. Not gonna fish ‘er outta that mess.”

Defeated, I sauntered back onto the bus and took my seat. I moped for a second, and then suddenly shot up. I was determined. I had to take on my next plan, and it would never go through without the proper attitude. I had received directions in the event that such would occur, but I had disregarded them in my optimism that the first plan would pan out. I quickly opened my cell phone and searched through a sea of messages in order to find the ones I desired. I found it and read the map that its words illustrated.

The directions would have me travel through the city a couple of kilometers south of where I would be dropped off. With my entire luggage, I would need to run at least half of that, and then walk briskly for the remainder. I began to imagine how it would be, and my body began to allot energy to my muscles that would soon be tried very hard. I had to meet my train by approximately twenty minutes after I would get off the bus.

Just as I was about to accept that plan, I noticed an extra few words that I had not taken heed to initially. They read: 20 minute walk to Union Station or 5 minutes by subway. This changed everything. I would be able to keep my appearance sweat-free, and I would definitely arrive at the station in a secure time. One problem remained: I had never taken Toronto’s subway station. I began to recall the subway stations of distant lands – specifically Montreal’s. They were labyrinths that were seemingly impossible to make passage through for the inexperienced. One could get on the wrong train and end up on the other side of town! It was risky business.

I had a decision to make. Would I risk being late from not being quick enough, or would I be late from taking the wrong path in the maze? Despite the turn of events, I felt as if luck was on my side, and so I decided that the subway would be my next destination. Having all of that sorted out, I closed my eyes and rested.

When I opened my eyes, the sky had gone dark. The passengers on the bus sat idly, their heads moving with each bump the vehicle took and swayed with the comforting motion of the road. I looked down to my watch; It was almost time. I laid back, thinking of what I had just done, what I was about to do, and the many days to come. It all seemed surreal, and the nervousness that I had felt prior was slowing converting to excitement.

The sky began to brighten as thousands of lights appeared in the horizon. Buildings began to approach the bus rapidly – all of them aglow with glowing specks representing each of its denizens still awake. The buildings would fly by, and then even more took their place. Soon, the road was surrounded by buildings, each taller than the next. I soon found myself in the heart of the city.

We were no longer moving as quickly; instead, we were carefully weaving around pedestrians and other, smaller, vehicles. It was obvious that these roads were not intended for use by these larger vehicles, but the bus was capable nonetheless. Soon came the area that I had come to know very well. We pulled into the bus terminal.

I stood up, grabbed my belongings, and jumped out of the bus. I eyed my suitcase in the pile beneath the bus and snatched it quickly. Just as I was about to run off, I realized something that would throw quite the wrench into my gears: I did not know where the subway was. I quickly looked around for someone who would know. The first person I eyed was the attendant who had hassled me before. I went up to him, expecting another response of rejection.

“Hello again, could you please direct me to the bus station?” I asked in a kind fashion.

“Ai good sire. Go over to that building, go down the stairs, take a right, then a left, and you’ll find yeeself there. Ensure ye got two-fitty on ya to get on,” he replied with a smile. I was completely taken aback that he had actually given me a friendly bit of advice.

“Thank-you!” I shouted as I made for the building that he directed me to.

At the end of the attendant’s path, I found myself heading underground into a cement cavern filled with hundreds of others. I quickly made for the ticket counter, threw some money down, and was thrown a ticket back. I stuck the ticket into the till beside me. It chimed, and I pushed myself through. I entered a wide, open expanse full of signs, tunnels, booths, lights, and much more people. I looked around for the sign that fitted my needs best. I headed towards one that seemed to go south. Soon, even more signs began to appear.

I followed the signs for a many rapid moments, and ventured down a large flight of stairs. My suitcase clunked with each step downwards. I was excited, terrified, and thrilled at the same time. Eventually, I ended up standing in a dark tunnel with several others. Not a moment after I arrived, the lights of a subway car illuminated the cavern. It came in at an alarming speed, and then gradually slowed to a stop. The doors flew open, and several people came out. All that was left now was the open door waiting for me. Taking a leap of faith, I entered the train. The door closed, and we began to move.

I began to survey the area. There were many others on the train – likely returning home after a busy day. Each one of them was likely used to this, and would take the route every day. To them, masters of the underground, this was just another thing they had to do. I drew from their confidence. I began to gaze at the advertisements along the roof of the cart, and suddenly I remembered the maps that would often be entwined within these. Much to my relief, I found one, and it said that I would be reaching Union Cross station in three stops. I let out a relaxing sigh and leaned against one of the metal poles.

Three stops passed, and I began to collect myself once more.

“Here we go,” I thought to myself.

When the door opened, I was the first one through. I began to weave through the crowd at an incredible speed and with remarkable accuracy. Just as I was about to reach the stairs, I hear a voice cry out.

“Mister, mister!” it shouted. It was the voice of an older woman.

I turned around to see who she whose attention she was trying to get. To my surprise, she was suddenly approaching me! She caught up to me and held out a bright, white water bottle. I looked down in awe at it, and then grasped onto it gently. It was a small item to most others, but it was an item that my love had given to me. I cherished it, and yet I was incredibly surprised that someone would ever think of grabbing such a thing.

“Thank-you, so much. You have helped me in ways beyond my own knowing,” I said to her with a large hug. With that done, I turned for the stairs.

I hoisted my suitcase onto my shoulders and began to climb. Every step brought me closer to my ultimate destination. Thoughts of my love floated throughout my mind, and I held onto my water bottle – never to let it go. I reached the top of the stairs and emerged through yet another doorway. The room that I entered was magnificently lit, and there was a substantially greater amount of space. Shops, eateries, and plenty of gleeful people filled out the area – it was truly uplifting. I let out a sigh of relief.

However, after looking down at my watch, I perked up immediately. I had seven minutes to get to my train – and I still needed a ticket! I quickly looked for a ticket counter. I found it, but there was a horrifically large queue for it. I quickly secured my spot in it. I could only rely on fate now.

The line moved steadily, but the seconds continued to slip away. Just before the end of the line, there was a notification saying that my train would be leaving in the next minute. I ran up to the woman behind the ticket counter. I told her my destination and the urgency I was experiencing. She looked down to her book and informed me that there would be one more in seventeen minutes. It would be the last one for a matter of an hour. I let out a huge sigh of relief and gave her the money for the ticket. Completely at ease, I began to leave the area.

“Excuse me, sir. Sir!” I heard the lady shout. I turned on the spot, a knowing smile on my face. I had forgotten to grab my ticket.

I once again found myself thanking someone for their help. As I walked away for the second time, I realized just how hungry I was. I had plowed through all of that with nothing else but my love and intuition on my mind. I ordered a large meal of delicious bread and assorted Greek food from one of the stands. I took a deep bite into the bread and was filled with warmth. I then put the food atop my pack and began to head towards my designated train. I climbed three more sets of stairs, and a heightened sense of satisfaction began to seep into me the further I went. I opened the door at the end of the final set and was greeted by fresh, crisp air. My train was already there; I boarded it triumphantly.

I took a seat and began to reflect on all that I had gone through. I then began to think of the upcoming days that would be spent with my love. I felt as if I definitely deserved it. Just as the doors of the train was preparing to leave, I saw a man running towards it. The doors had begun to slowly close. Next thing I knew, the man dived through the small space that remained. The doors clicked, and the man brushed himself off.

“It’s amazing,” he began to say, “ten seconds could save you forty-five minutes!”

His words were very true. The journey had turned out perfectly, and I was now on my way to see the person who had fuelled me through all of this. I basked in the transformation of the day’s events as I leaned back and closed my eyes. Anything could have gone wrong, and yet here I was. I opened up a notebook to write in and a parcel of food to eat. My mind quivered excitedly with the thoughts of the adventure yet to come.

Thoughts

Mon, 27 Feb 2012 18:03:28 -0500

The secret is to be motivated at ease. If you are entirely relaxed, nothing will get done; if you are overly stressed, creative-thought will become excessively difficult. Discover an equilibrium and life will be full of potential!

I Promise

Mon, 23 Jan 2012 12:22:48 -0500

I promise you that this poem might be worth your time,
I promise you that this poem will make you think,
I promise you that this poem is a poem.

I promise that you will do well in life,
I promise that you will find the person of your dreams,
I promise that you will be capable of pushing your own boundaries.

I promise apples, when left out in the sun too long, are oranges,
I promise oranges, when peeled, become apples,
I promise apples, when alone, are apples.

I promise that a promise no longer means what it once did.

These four basic patterns embody all stories with character...

Wed, 18 Jan 2012 00:15:00 -0500

These four basic patterns embody all stories with character and plot development. They are the general shape that a story takes, and the outcome of the plot will be affected by the choice that the creator makes.

In a comedy, the protagonist is no different than you or I, but they undergo a significant transformation that makes them rise above the general constraints of conventional society. This is the more prolific type of story, and it can be witnessed in Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, or any story involving an underdog taking the win. In romance stories, the protagonist begins their adventure at a superhuman level – essentially where the comedy protagonist left off. They are the heroes and knights in shining armour who battle through any onslaught. Even if they come across hardship, they never cease to come out victorious. The victim protagonists of tragedy however, are consumed by their hardships. Take Hamlet for example: he begins the story with a status above most others, but his lust for proper revenge leads to the death of himself and numerous others. These stories live up to their tragic title. Finally, there are the stories following the pattern of irony. These contain protagonists of little power who fight for a greater cause or endure strenuous hardship. They do not succeed, per se. Whether events turn to their favour, or crush their hopes and dreams, the character does not go anywhere – he finds himself within steps of where he had begun. It is fascinating to categorize your favourite stories into each pattern and discover the similarities between many of them. Not to mention, understanding each of these forms is a priceless addition to anyone’s knowledge tool box.

So go out; pick your favourite movie, book, or even song. Will Luke Skywalker succumb to the temptations of the dark side? Will Winston Smith and the Brotherhood overthrow Big Brother? Will Hamlet avenge his father’s murder and claim the throne? We all know the actual answers to these, but we could change the pattern of a story by simply answering them differently. This is truly remarkable, and it demonstrates the true majesty and wonder of story writing.

The purpose of this blog is to bolster my understanding of story writing! Hopefully, others will be...

Mon, 16 Jan 2012 22:02:00 -0500

The purpose of this blog is to bolster my understanding of story writing! Hopefully, others will be able to get something out of it too. I will post my own work on occasion, but the central focus will be articles discussing literature, movies, music, and any other medium that holds a story. It is easy to forget or overlook these things; so many of us do so. You will find though, that once you begin to take note, the world is full of adventures, mysteries, and general shenanigans of interest.

Once we are able to notice these, our job is to merely enjoy it.

Staying Afloat

Mon, 16 Jan 2012 08:14:00 -0500

The moon’s radiant light illuminates the calm waves. Each gentle lapse of the water glistens like a priceless gem being twirled by a dealer. If these were actual gems, I would be rich – destined to lead a bountiful life; alas, they are just cruel reminders of a life that is slowly escaping me.

It is no longer as cold as it had been before. The initial plunge was frigid and pushed the air from my lungs. My muscles had seized, and any attempts to move them were for naught. My arms and legs were rigid boards that denied me efficient motion; I merely splashed about until the water quickly enveloped my body. As I slowly descended, I began to relax my useless movements. I calmed myself.

I was astonished by the fact that I had recovered so well after those initial seconds. Many people cannot stand the water in late autumn. Yet here I am –seemingly-stranded – treading water for hours. Surviving. It isn’t all that hard, actually. It is more of a mind-over-matter occurrence.

I allowed myself to drift into the past. I remembered the crash that had started it all. I had been thrown into the abyss. It was needless and could have been prevented numerous ways, but it remains set in stone no matter my efforts to change it. They were all gone. My friends, each one of them, lie in the bottom of a lake some place – awaiting my arrival. Their beckoning is sweet and sincere, their lifestyle laid back. I cannot join them, however. My pride would not allow it.

So I drift back into the present. It would be simple to just let the waves take me into the mysterious depths that they worship. How long would I float before I began to sink? I gently move my arms along my side like a bird in flight. I am on my back now, and I gaze up into the starry sky. Each light glows proudly; they remind each other of their rightful place in the sky. Some joined together to form constellations – others prominently stood their ground alone. I remember a time when I felt such unity. It felt so distant now. How long would it take once I let it consume me?

They were always my anchor. In retrospect, I should have learned to become more self-sufficient. Yet they were forever there, and they never shed a negative thought toward me. Helpful, reliable, and comforting: I would use these words to describe them. I could always rely on them to make a joke or pass some wisdom when I was feeling down. No matter my condition, they had the perfect remedy. But where were they now?

The cold has left my body, and I begin to feel warmth emanate from within. My muscles begin to weaken, however; I know that I cannot continue this way for an eternity. My friends will likely be upset if I end up joining them prematurely. Sure, they will be joyed at being with me once more, but they each will know the cost. Twenty years, thirty, forty, or maybe more. Plus, I have my brother and sister to look out for. My relationship with my family is trying at the best of times, but they are my kin, and I love them. How long would my family suffer?

I hear my friends’ echoes of motivation. They tell me to move on with life – fulfill my potential. They wish for me to live the life that they no longer have. I ponder whether this is what they truly want, but they are certain. I draw on their strength and feel a surge on energy shoot through my system. I feel truly alive, empowered. I have stood idly in life for too long – it is my turn to glow. I stand up.

The water is up to my torso. The cold air bites at the newly exposed skin. It is painful, and I begin to feel sick to my stomach. I wade out of the water, feeling pain with every inch of new skin that is revealed. I want to cry out. The agony is overwhelming, but I learn to find pleasure in it. After an endless duration, I feel dry rocks against my feet and spin about to gaze upon the water. I open my eyes to simply see darkness; the moon has resigned for the night, and the stars have gone their separate ways. Their light remains inside of me though, and I turn to leave as the sky begins to brighten to a soft glow. It is my turn now: my turn to live.