When he stepped on the court, Jess didn't expect that he'd win the state championship. Or that he'd be in the hospital and heading on an adventure.

    This was a primitive world, It's inhabitants convinced of their own uniqueness and self worth. He hadn't wanted this, but they wouldn't listen. They believed in independent evolution, that each society needed to find their own feet. But he knew otherwise; he knew that this race, like so many others, would reach the galactic scale only to find it alien territory, to be punished for trespass and most likely the use of banned propulsion systems. An intrepid, young race, punched in the face by a possessive older neighbour. They would probably fight. They wouldn't realise the vastness of their enemy and would commit suicide, eradicated under the dangerous races act.

Prologue.

            The landscape sparkles with glistening ice. The crisp, yet utterly calm, chill air biting with sharp freshness. Not a thing moves save the skittering of spiders as they run on silken spider webs. A few birds rise in an excited arc, singing in musical harmony and disappearing in the frozen woods.

Once upon a time in a land not so far away and a time not so long ago, a tortoise received word of his aunt's illness. so he pulled on his jacket and grabbed a bag of medicine for her and headed for Palor Lake. To get to Palor Lake, the tortoise would have to go through the land of the bizarre, the Belair woods.

Now in this time there were whispers of overly odd things happening in the heart of the woods but the tortoise was resolute on his journey and slowly began to plod down the path and towards the woods. "Sir, Sir. Don't go in there. Nothing good ever happens there." The speaker was a meek field mouse who was farming potatoes.

This is a snippet from a longer story I've been trying to get done.

A Cold Walk On A New Years Eve Night

 I was walking up the street, battling the cold night wind, when it struck me. I was in the middle of uptown Gaffney. It was Sunday night, roughly 11:25 pm, and the various shops, bars, and check cashing places were all abandoned. A single truck bearing two passengers, an old caucasian couple, passed by. Neither the man nor the woman would meet my scruffy gaze.
I had bushy, longish hair. The black army duster I wore was zipped up. My hands were buried in my pockets to keep them warm. My pants were dirty and had been victimized by my constant sewing to keep them in one piece. A sweet Backwoods brand cigar manufactured in the Dominican Republic hung out of the corner of my mouth, burning steadily. I looked like a bum or a crackhead wandering the night streets, prowling around for a victim. I could hardly blame them for being nervous.
 They passed through the stoplight making a left and quickly vanished from my sight. After a second, even the ghost of their engine noise was gone. I was utterly alone. I kept walking. The only sounds remaining were my footsteps and my breathing.
 I emerged from the crowded, ancient, 1930's era monuments of uptown to the newer, more spaced out buildings. I could hear the buzzing of the electrical transformers overhead and the distant whispers of unseen automobile engines. And then silence. I stopped walking, stopped breathing. My mind was completely still. I found it... Peace.... In the distance, I could see glowing white Christmas lights that spelled out "PEACE ON EARTH". It wasn't just words to me. I felt a secret pride. Everyone wanted it, but I had it. Peace. The underlying silence I'd always told the others about. The silence I'd never really experience before, at least not sober. The thunderous, empty Rigpa of the Tibetans. The Tao of those weird old Chinese hermits. The Tathagata language of the true self. I had found the hidden mystery Satori buried under the cacophony of modern America. I was overjoyed.

The Crow And The Parrots - ROGER CRATON
Once, a rather large and smelly crow found his way through an open door into a pet store and settled on a perch next to the parrots. The owner was amused at the stand-offish manner that the parrots held toward the crow. People in the community got wind of the crow and came into the shop to see it. So, the owner began feeding the crow.

Every morning the owner would come in early to feed the birds. As he entered, he would call out to the birds, "Good morning friends." The parrots would all mimic him saying,"Morning friends." As he fed them he said,"How are my pretties?" The parrots would mimic. "Are my pretties?" As he finished he would say, "Bye sweeties." The parrots would mimic saying, " Sweeties." The crow, quietly bemused, always observed this. One day he asked them, " Why do you copy his words?" The lead parrot snapped, " Quiet fool! Those are the sacred words, the root of all are beliefs. We must repeat them to insure future feedings." The crow retorted, " It is you that are fools, those words are empty. He will feed us regardless of our response. He is paying no attention to your words." The parrots started crying out for his blood. The parrot leader said," You know nothing. We don't have to listen to you. Keep quiet and count your blessings that the owner feeds you too as a result of our prayers."

This is from the very quill of Beauregarde the Trouboubador Ant! Surely the worst poet in Antdom, and possibly even the whole of Insectia.........

Hear him now as he regales the beauteous Madame Spider with one of his less well-known impromptu works:

"Madame Spider so big and fat,

How I wonder where you're at.

With your legs, so long and many,

Shoes must cost a pretty penny.

Your big blue eyes and whiskers frizzy

Make me feel a little dizzy.

Are you going to the ball?

Will you dance with me at all?

 



“ Sometimes I think that my parents are aliens and they forgot what planet they left me on!!” my brother is constantly saying. “Everything in this world sometimes is confusing.” as he breaks down in tears for the thirtieth time this week. I know that he is having a hard time but I seem to have to tell him the same thing over and over. Mom says that he has to have lists, and everything has be on a schedule or he gets upset. If he gets to may things going on in his head he'll spin in a circle.
When he was little it used to bug Dad, because he tell him to go get ready for school. Twenty minutes later, he wouldn't be ready. Dad would walk into the bedroom and there he would be with one foot planted stepping this way then the next, like he couldn't move his foot but he was trying to remember what he was doing. Heck,he didn't really talk until he was almost 5, well he'd talk but unless you lived in our house you couldn't understand him.

No, not yet!! as I reach over and smack my alarm clock.I do not want to move any more than I have to, Sleep calls,  five hours of sleep is not enough my brain screams. I want to sleep a little more, my coccoon of blankets softly hum to me a lullaby.But I resist, slowly stretch out of my fetal position to laying on my stomach, I try to touch the foot of the bed but as always my feet don't touch. Catherdal bells start softly ringing,I try to ignore them but they get louder and louder.I smack the alarm clock again and look at the time brightly shining in red bold numbers 5:35 in the dark. One more time , I say to myself,I have to get up the next time the clock goes off.  But it never seems to be enough time to get some more shut eye in yet I always try.

Sometimes night is so long it seems it will never be day again
You can't see where your going and maybe you don't care
as long as you get some where else you're better off
Sometimes you see a tree that would be good shade
if it was hot outside, but it's cold
Sometimes you hear noises that scare you at night
but they probably wouldnt scare you in the daytime
Somtimes you wish you had friends to keep you company

1. My name is Vampress, I am 25. I live in Mystic Oregon

1. Anyone around you think you exist?  Yes but i think they are crazy. I'm dead

1. How often do you clean your bath towel? Lots if I don't i'd get maggets from all the blood.

1. Have you ever murdered a cow? Yes, not very tasty

1. Is your tooth brush cleaner than your teeth? yes i just bout it. The other one was growing moss

Just found site. Looking into it. wonder what you are doing everyone. Have a nice day.

1. My name is cherokee_girl; I am 21 years old--or am I 16(can't make up my mind) and live somwhere between Bend, Oregon and McCall, Idaho, for now at least.
2. My mom thinks I exist but my roomate doesn't. 
3. Only is it's turning green (and it's normally bule and white)
4. Nope, but my stepdad has. It was sad.
5. Yep, especially after all the candy I ate last night.
   

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So I am Zen.

The creator, the initiator and the procrastinator.

I was known as nil on the other forum

The reason I change my name is due to some technical issue when I import the profiles.

You are encourage to post your bios here, even though you might have already done so on the other forum.

Jungle jackal ate a gentle turtle.
Purple bubble trapped the brutal jackal.
Gobble, gobble, swallow the bubble.
Doodle, doodle, make everything purple.