Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Cloud
Cloud o' cloud come to me
Cloud o' cloud set me free
from this light that's so bright,
from this darkness that's so light.
Free me from this blinding shine,
that seems to be in a line.
Come to be the shade of gray,
that transforms light into day.
Cloud o' cloud hear my plea
Please o' please set me free
Monday, March 5, 2012
AQOTWF: Chapter 2 - Theme
The most common theme that I can see in Chapter 2 is the theme of time. Time is changing quickly and not one of the boys that are experiencing this time in history are able to catch up to it. The reality of the "changes of time" is simple if you are able to catch the little things that are slowly chipping away at the dream of war. The dream is to end the war in glory even if that means to lose an arm or a leg. What's happening with these boys is so quick that one minute they're eating a good, hearty meal and the next minute they're trying on a set of their dead friends boots. This theme in Chapter 2 and in the rest of the book is difficult to see but if the right amount of attention is given then it's more likely to be caught.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Jekyll Hyde #4
The final chapter of the novel did contain important and essential information but it was otherwise filled with repetition and unimportant details that we had already figured out. The need for this chapter seemed less significant than in previous years because of the early exposure to the story.
I understand the need to add every specific detail into the story about the mind of Jekyll and how it was affected by the presence of Hyde from the Doctor's own mind but after all this exposure to the story worldwide, the information within Jekyll's mind has been passed on from generation to generation.
In final perspective of the case the chapter held plausible information to the untrained eye while it contained a serious case of repetition between the lines
"Wayne's World, Wayne's World, Party time, Excellent. WOO!!!"
I understand the need to add every specific detail into the story about the mind of Jekyll and how it was affected by the presence of Hyde from the Doctor's own mind but after all this exposure to the story worldwide, the information within Jekyll's mind has been passed on from generation to generation.
In final perspective of the case the chapter held plausible information to the untrained eye while it contained a serious case of repetition between the lines
"Wayne's World, Wayne's World, Party time, Excellent. WOO!!!"
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Jekyll Hyde #3
Authors Note: In chapters 8 and 9, the truth is revealed but not directly to one specific group. Two different groups are involved in the spiraling staircase of events. One group is on the right path of discovering the truths while the other already knows. Communications with the known group is now impossible since they're dead.
Everything is spinning; The only still object in my vision is my feet glued to the floor. I'm immobile. I'm trapped. It's impossible to move, to break free, to run away from my life, my past, my future.
I'm trapped in a circle of reflectors showing me everything wrong that I have done in my life. Everything. The way I shut out every one of my companions. My wfe. Oh, my dear wife. Her face is glorified in the reflectors showing me what I missed out, what I had drove away several years ago. What have I done?
The wife's glorified face turned sad and cold once she realized it was me spinning around in her presence. Her smile that spread from cheeck to cheek faded and transformed into something dark. She began to change colors: from red, to crystals, to dark purple, then finally to a watery green. Without warning the reflectors burst, minute fragments flew out, erasing her changing image from my view.
I stopped. My head was pounding along with the rapid beating of my empty heart. Next to my foot was a fragment with color of watery green. When I began to take a glance my own reflection changed from my horrified face to an equally terrifying other. I was the person who drove her away. Who drove everyone away. Who drove my own self, filled with kindness and joy, away to be replaced by a hideous monster who refuses to Hyde from anyone other than myself.
Everything is spinning; The only still object in my vision is my feet glued to the floor. I'm immobile. I'm trapped. It's impossible to move, to break free, to run away from my life, my past, my future.
I'm trapped in a circle of reflectors showing me everything wrong that I have done in my life. Everything. The way I shut out every one of my companions. My wfe. Oh, my dear wife. Her face is glorified in the reflectors showing me what I missed out, what I had drove away several years ago. What have I done?
The wife's glorified face turned sad and cold once she realized it was me spinning around in her presence. Her smile that spread from cheeck to cheek faded and transformed into something dark. She began to change colors: from red, to crystals, to dark purple, then finally to a watery green. Without warning the reflectors burst, minute fragments flew out, erasing her changing image from my view.
I stopped. My head was pounding along with the rapid beating of my empty heart. Next to my foot was a fragment with color of watery green. When I began to take a glance my own reflection changed from my horrified face to an equally terrifying other. I was the person who drove her away. Who drove everyone away. Who drove my own self, filled with kindness and joy, away to be replaced by a hideous monster who refuses to Hyde from anyone other than myself.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Jekyll Hyde #2
Authors note: Chapters 3-7 have Provence my suspicions correct. Dr. Jekyll is protecting someone that he doesn't want to see get hurt in any way. He has such a passionate connection with this person that he is willing to put himself into the line of fire to insure that nothing bad happens to him.
Alone.
Alone is what I feel.
Alone in this dark place where no one can find me.
No one will ever be able to find me.
I don't want them to.
If they find me.....I will be revealed.
If I am revealed.... then everyone will know.
If everyone knows.....then my game will be over.
If my game is over.....than I have lost.
I am not the only one who has lost however.
You have too....you now know why I have to Hyde.
Why I have to be alone.
Why I stay in the dark.
If you know you will never be able to forget my face.
Lastly my dear friend, my face can never be erased from the mind.
It is that revealing that once it's seen you won't be able to see anything but the horror.
The horror of the truth.
Alone.
Alone is what I feel.
Alone in this dark place where no one can find me.
No one will ever be able to find me.
I don't want them to.
If they find me.....I will be revealed.
If I am revealed.... then everyone will know.
If everyone knows.....then my game will be over.
If my game is over.....than I have lost.
I am not the only one who has lost however.
You have too....you now know why I have to Hyde.
Why I have to be alone.
Why I stay in the dark.
If you know you will never be able to forget my face.
Lastly my dear friend, my face can never be erased from the mind.
It is that revealing that once it's seen you won't be able to see anything but the horror.
The horror of the truth.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Jekyll and Hyde #1
Authors Note: I have no intense thoughts about this book so far because it's confusing when it comes to understanding where the characters minds are going. Their thoughts jump from one subject to another and its difficult to understand their first thoughts when they've already jumped to the next train of them in their heads.
When that moment of sheer embarrassment isn't willingly escaping the mind, the instinct of forcing it out with music or laughter kicks it. Stop. This embarrassing moment in the hidden chamber of the mind may lead to something greater than ourselves. If the seconds were taken to analyze every factor of the moment then the underlying truth of it would be revealed. When that moment isn't taken, then only the unknown memory will know the main purpose of the event.
Mr.Hyde is a very secluded man when it comes to appearances but every once in a while he is seen. The disadvantages of being seen for Mr.Hyde should be obvious after he is described as being, "deformed" and "displeasing" (11). There's something about Mr. Hyde that shoots fear into the people that catch a glimpse of him. Although it is never thoroughly described the facial identity of Hyde must be frightful for the people who have seen him once or twice.
The beginning three chapters of the novel are chapters that possess you to set it aflame. That is the main focus of the first three chapters because the mystery is only becoming more known and yet it's becoming unknown. As Mr. Utterson begins to un-tie the threads of the mystery new questions arise on who Mr.Hyde really is and why is Dr. Jekyll have such an interest in him.
When that moment of sheer embarrassment isn't willingly escaping the mind, the instinct of forcing it out with music or laughter kicks it. Stop. This embarrassing moment in the hidden chamber of the mind may lead to something greater than ourselves. If the seconds were taken to analyze every factor of the moment then the underlying truth of it would be revealed. When that moment isn't taken, then only the unknown memory will know the main purpose of the event.
Mr.Hyde is a very secluded man when it comes to appearances but every once in a while he is seen. The disadvantages of being seen for Mr.Hyde should be obvious after he is described as being, "deformed" and "displeasing" (11). There's something about Mr. Hyde that shoots fear into the people that catch a glimpse of him. Although it is never thoroughly described the facial identity of Hyde must be frightful for the people who have seen him once or twice.
The beginning three chapters of the novel are chapters that possess you to set it aflame. That is the main focus of the first three chapters because the mystery is only becoming more known and yet it's becoming unknown. As Mr. Utterson begins to un-tie the threads of the mystery new questions arise on who Mr.Hyde really is and why is Dr. Jekyll have such an interest in him.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Un-named
The air was cold. Every breath that escaped my lungs transformed into a thick cloud in front of me. The cloud swirled and evaporated as quickly as it had come. The old truck was cold; it could barely hold onto a dash of heat. It used to belong to the man inside the house. The green light radiating off of the dashboard clock flashed. Time to go.
Creaks from the old metal door filled the dark night’s atmosphere. No one was home at this time of year; always away for the holidays. Slamming the door of the truck, I circled around to the back. The latch of the half-door was stuck, most likely frozen to itself again. Exhaling sharply I stepped back and kicked the door numerous times. The echoes of the screaming metal drowned out the ringing in my ears.
Once the half-door was open, crumple noises began to sound from the nylon jacket that slowly fell off of my shoulders without knowing. The jacket made a small ruffle sound as it hit the bed of the truck. I had to change completely in order to be as secretive as possible. The decision to not wear a piece of itchy fabric upon my face came easily. I looked down as the sharp, lethal instruments crowding the bed. I knew what I had to do, but the voice of my conscious got me questioning my reasoning behind this brutal idea. No, I had to do it. I have to do this.
I leapt into the bed of the truck and attached the belt around my waist. The metal of the .9 millimeter was cold against the bare flesh of my side. A shiver rushed through my body, raising the petite bumps within my skin. Standing up, I clutched a handle with the one and a half foot blade attached to the end of it, sliding it into the other holster of the belt. A four inch blade was already hiding inside my boot.
I landed next to the side of the truck with a sharp pain shooting through my ankles. Wiping particles of rust off of my jeans, I circled around and lifted the half- door with the top of my foot. A feeling of making myself known flowed through my mind. I wanted someone to find me, to stop me, to tell me that I was crazy but sadly no one was there to slap me across the face.
There were two noises that invaded my ears: the sound of my boots crushing the fresh blanket of white, and a beating vibrating through my chest. Boom….boom……..boom. Boom….boom…….boom. Boom….boom…….boom. The sound gave me a rhythm to follow as I walked towards the front door. It was painted differently with a golden knocker in the middle. Soon enough I was taking the key that was hiding underneath the mat, placing it into the slot and forcing the tumblers to grind against each other.
The door no longer squealed as it was forced open. Nothing was the same, everything had changed. It felt like I had never lived here before, that my presence was washed away with paint and wood floors. I heard the door close itself behind me. Staring at me was the staircase that lead up to their room.
The sinking ability of the carpeted stairs muffled the sounds of my heavy feet. These feet were leading a person of death and evil towards the innocent and weak. No. They weren’t innocent. They were guilty and it was written all over their faces. Whenever they appeared on TV, the guilt was painted in neon green. There was no way of denying it.
No longer were there pictures of the family upon the walls. They wanted to rid themselves of every memory of their children. Great; another reason to be here in the middle of the night. What was I thinking? They didn’t mean any harm; they were just doing their jobs. A heavy sigh escaped my lips. What the hell am I doing here?
I had a sudden urge to turn back, to race down the steps and back into the heatless truck, to drive away and talk to them tomorrow. No. I have to do this. If I don’t….. Oh, who knows what will happen. The important thing is, is that I’m here now and I might as well get it over with.
There was a light shining from underneath their door. If there were noises coming from inside I couldn’t hear them because of an intense theme song that began to play in my head. My fingers wrapped around the frozen metal at my side. The handle of the door was warm. My wrist flicked, the door flew open. The sudden light blinded me for a moment. I could see it now.
Blood splattered over the wall above them in precise diagonal lines. The sheets of the bed tangled from the ferocious attempts to escape. The man who I had known until this moment as father lay still on the bed; his wife dangling from the other side, her head tilted towards me with lifeless eyes. A man dressed in black stood above her with a merciless grin. Someone had beaten me to it. Damn.
Creaks from the old metal door filled the dark night’s atmosphere. No one was home at this time of year; always away for the holidays. Slamming the door of the truck, I circled around to the back. The latch of the half-door was stuck, most likely frozen to itself again. Exhaling sharply I stepped back and kicked the door numerous times. The echoes of the screaming metal drowned out the ringing in my ears.
Once the half-door was open, crumple noises began to sound from the nylon jacket that slowly fell off of my shoulders without knowing. The jacket made a small ruffle sound as it hit the bed of the truck. I had to change completely in order to be as secretive as possible. The decision to not wear a piece of itchy fabric upon my face came easily. I looked down as the sharp, lethal instruments crowding the bed. I knew what I had to do, but the voice of my conscious got me questioning my reasoning behind this brutal idea. No, I had to do it. I have to do this.
I leapt into the bed of the truck and attached the belt around my waist. The metal of the .9 millimeter was cold against the bare flesh of my side. A shiver rushed through my body, raising the petite bumps within my skin. Standing up, I clutched a handle with the one and a half foot blade attached to the end of it, sliding it into the other holster of the belt. A four inch blade was already hiding inside my boot.
I landed next to the side of the truck with a sharp pain shooting through my ankles. Wiping particles of rust off of my jeans, I circled around and lifted the half- door with the top of my foot. A feeling of making myself known flowed through my mind. I wanted someone to find me, to stop me, to tell me that I was crazy but sadly no one was there to slap me across the face.
There were two noises that invaded my ears: the sound of my boots crushing the fresh blanket of white, and a beating vibrating through my chest. Boom….boom……..boom. Boom….boom…….boom. Boom….boom…….boom. The sound gave me a rhythm to follow as I walked towards the front door. It was painted differently with a golden knocker in the middle. Soon enough I was taking the key that was hiding underneath the mat, placing it into the slot and forcing the tumblers to grind against each other.
The door no longer squealed as it was forced open. Nothing was the same, everything had changed. It felt like I had never lived here before, that my presence was washed away with paint and wood floors. I heard the door close itself behind me. Staring at me was the staircase that lead up to their room.
The sinking ability of the carpeted stairs muffled the sounds of my heavy feet. These feet were leading a person of death and evil towards the innocent and weak. No. They weren’t innocent. They were guilty and it was written all over their faces. Whenever they appeared on TV, the guilt was painted in neon green. There was no way of denying it.
No longer were there pictures of the family upon the walls. They wanted to rid themselves of every memory of their children. Great; another reason to be here in the middle of the night. What was I thinking? They didn’t mean any harm; they were just doing their jobs. A heavy sigh escaped my lips. What the hell am I doing here?
I had a sudden urge to turn back, to race down the steps and back into the heatless truck, to drive away and talk to them tomorrow. No. I have to do this. If I don’t….. Oh, who knows what will happen. The important thing is, is that I’m here now and I might as well get it over with.
There was a light shining from underneath their door. If there were noises coming from inside I couldn’t hear them because of an intense theme song that began to play in my head. My fingers wrapped around the frozen metal at my side. The handle of the door was warm. My wrist flicked, the door flew open. The sudden light blinded me for a moment. I could see it now.
Blood splattered over the wall above them in precise diagonal lines. The sheets of the bed tangled from the ferocious attempts to escape. The man who I had known until this moment as father lay still on the bed; his wife dangling from the other side, her head tilted towards me with lifeless eyes. A man dressed in black stood above her with a merciless grin. Someone had beaten me to it. Damn.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)