Warhol Media

rofl

2006-10-01T17:41:00.000-07:00

Advanced Global Personality Test Results

Extraversion	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	66%
Stability	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	56%
Orderliness	\|\|\|\|	13%
Accommodation	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	76%
Interdependence	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	63%
Intellectual	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	63%
Mystical	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	36%
Artistic	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	76%
Religious	\|\|	10%
Hedonism	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	50%
Materialism	\|\|\|\|\|\|	23%
Narcissism	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	36%
Adventurousness	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	50%
Work ethic	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	36%
Self absorbed	\|\|\|\|	16%
Conflict seeking	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	43%
Need to dominate	\|\|\|\|\|\|	23%

Romantic	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	50%
Avoidant	\|\|	10%
Anti-authority	\|\|	10%
Wealth	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	36%
Dependency	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	36%
Change averse	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	70%
Cautiousness	\|\|\|\|\|\|	30%
Individuality	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	70%
Sexuality	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	90%
Peter pan complex	\|\|	10%
Physical security	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	76%
Physical Fitness	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	50%
Histrionic	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	43%
Paranoia	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	36%
Vanity	\|\|\|\|\|\|	23%
Hypersensitivity	\|\|\|\|\|\|	30%
Female cliche	\|\|\|\|\|\|	30%

Take Free Advanced Global Personality Test
personality tests by similarminds.com

Warhol what?

2006-06-24T18:42:00.000-07:00

Its been awhile for the two people who read this since I've posted and its not like we don't see/talk to eachother everyday. Well not see now that school is over. I'm having a Ravi Jain moment and blogger is pissing me off. Just like he said ITS NOT RELIABLE. Ofcourse my mood was lightened almost immediately when I saw that www.pitchforkmedia.com had posted their top 100 videos you can find on youtube.com. Of course I spend hours upon hours searching for that hidden Belle and Sebastian promo video on youtube. I love Kate Bush almost as much as I love pitchfork, moment 2:37 of the kidzbop since you been gone video and watching clips from Improv Everywhere repeatedly COMBINED. Why do I love her so much? First of all she masterminded Hounds of Love, my favorite futureheads song of all time. Second of all pitchfork has hooked me up with one of her most masterfully beautiful parodies so far. Wuthering Heights is a book I've never read, probably won't for quite some time. Wuthering Heights is also a Kate Bush song that I have watched the video to many a time and posted nasty comments to the non believers. P.S. Batman you'll probably think she's serious and diss indie some more so just for the record ITS A JOKE.
And just so you can see the beauty of excitement..... remember turn on your slow motion powers when 2:37 is coming up

and because you all are not indie...

and to teach you all what good music is..
http://www.youtube.com/profile?user=ligershea

ownage

2006-03-15T15:15:00.000-08:00

OMFUG BELLE AND SEBASTIAN THE LIFE PURSUIT IS A SWEET CD THAT IS ALMOST AS SWEET AS THE MOUNTAIN GOATS THE SUNSET TREE thats right forget the shins and the cloud room i gots me new favorite cdsinterpol and iron and wine can suck it ok so maybe they cant because theyre good too and so is AIH (architecture in helsinki) the futurehaeds still own and so do the electric hearts but $25 says none of u know wtf im talking bout right? oh well

OMFUG

2006-03-03T15:17:00.000-08:00

http://mchammer.blogspot.com/

holla

2006-03-03T14:09:00.000-08:00

how many posts have I called holla hmmmmmm

triumph owns you all

awwwwwwwwww

continuation at

perfect

whew thats food coloring

those poor poor knit conjoined teddy bears

i like the guys face from The Ultimate Colossal Burger, Ruby Tuesday
jesus don't skip over phtos these are all incredible

m'k

2006-02-17T19:09:00.000-08:00

alright someone told me this cool idea i should do with some of my pics i could do a silkscreen of them so if u wouldnt mind id like it if you guys could pick out 4 of them thanks

Ok I'm Starting Posting Again

2006-01-24T14:24:00.000-08:00

WOOOOT time to start posting again
The Hulk own you all and you knwo it dont you? dont deny it
horra who wanta flied lice (domll kill me for saying that)

discovery

2006-01-22T09:55:00.000-08:00

nooooooooooooo the batcave has been found no more Friday nights

again its changed

2006-01-20T04:47:00.000-08:00

now its gunther i cant make up my mind

[Chorus]
oh, you touch my tralala,
mm my ding ding dong.
la lalala lalala....
Oh, you touch my tralala
la lalala lalala....
mm, my ding ding dong.
la lalala lalala....

[Verse]
Deep in the night
i'm looking for some fun,
deep in the night
i'm looking for some love.
dedededeep in the night
i'm looking for some fun,
deep in the night
i'm looking for some...

You tease me,
oh please me,
i want you to be my lovetoy,
come near me, don´t here me,
i just can´t get enough of you boy.

[Repeat Chorus]

[Repeat Verse]

you tease me,
oh please me.
i want you to be my lovetoy. come near me, don´t here me,
i just can´t get enough of you boy.

[Repeat Chorus Till End]

mp3

2006-01-19T16:34:00.000-08:00

woopsy i 4got to change the post bout the mp3 its the office theme song now by jay ferguson

sweet

2006-01-17T18:42:00.000-08:00

theres an article for one of my favorite bands best song on Pitchfork
http://pitchforkmedia.com/features/weekly/06-01-16-smash-that-wasnt.shtml

k?

2006-01-16T16:56:00.000-08:00

take the how indie are you test ok thanks

uhhh myspace photo albums

2006-01-12T10:38:00.000-08:00

oooooo dear danny dont go to myspace m'k? no questions or friday night is off

Resurrection

2006-01-09T17:27:00.000-08:00

alrighty to hear the mp³ above you need quicktime
its by Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

lyrics

2006-01-09T13:31:00.000-08:00

here are the lyrics for that awesome narnia rap i didnt write them so if there are any typos dont be blaming me blame well blame jesus

Lazy Sunday wake up in the late afternoon
call Parnell just to see how he's doing
hello what up pas! yo sandburg, whats rocking?
you thinking what i'm thinking? narnia! then it's happening!
But first, my hunger pangs are sticking like duct tape
let's hit up magnolia and mack on some cupcakes
No doubt, that bakery's got all the bomb frosting.
i love those cupcakes like mcadams loves gosling
2 no 6 no 12, bakers dozen!
i told you that i'm crazy for these cupcakes, cousin!
yo wheres the movie playing? upper west side dude!
let's hit up yahoo maps to find the dopest route.
i prefer mapquest! that's a good one too.
google maps is the best! true that! double true!
68th and broadway step on it sucker!
what you want to do chris? snack attack, motherf@%r!
what the chronic(les!) of narnia!
we love that chronic(les!) of narnia!
pass that chronic(les!) of narnia!
yo stop at the deli, the theatre is overpriced!
you got that backpack? i'm going to pack it up nice.
we don't want security to get suspicious!
mr pibbs plus red vines equals crazy delicious.
reach in my pocket and pull out some dough
girl acted like she never seen a 10 before!
it's all about the hamiltons baby
throw the snacks in a bag and i'm ghost like sueze.
roll up to the theate ticket buying what we're handling,
Call us Aaron Burr from the way we're dropping hamiltons
in our seats movie trivia is the illest!
question: what friends star starred in a movie with bruce willis?
we answered so fast it was scary:
everyone stared at us when we screamed matthew perry!
quiet in the theatre or else it'll get tragic
we're about to be taken to a dream world of magic
what the chronic(les!) of narnia! (repeats)
we love that chronic(les!) of narnia!
pass that chronic(les!) of narnia!

back and running

2006-01-09T13:18:00.000-08:00

woot im back and im on a roll ive added some movies its been awhile but ive learned some more html while i was too lazy to post

re:egg

2005-12-15T16:36:00.000-08:00

if you put that in a template or in a code processing place of ur blog/website itll hatch like mine did (see my sidebar)

egg

2005-11-28T17:03:00.000-08:00

alt="This_egg_hatches_on_December_1,_2005!_Adopt_one_today_from_pickle-green.com/egraphics!" title="This_egg_hatches_on_December_1,_2005!_Adopt_one_today_from_pickle-green.com/egraphics!">

holla

2005-11-09T17:03:00.000-08:00

well I'm going to add more games to the list at the bottom
please tell me if some have glitches or dont work or dont have instructions ill work it all out

woohoo

2005-11-04T15:02:00.000-08:00

best free online game http://the-package.freeonlinegames.com/

ok

2005-11-03T17:26:00.000-08:00

now that im tweaking this blog out to the maximum capibility was wondering if any of u young moguls out there (though you're probably twice my age) know how i can put music on my blog other than using audioblogger and putting the phone up to the speakers?
thnkx

i rule

2005-11-02T17:39:00.000-08:00

hahhahahahha
ive been researching coding and i found a website thatll let me use their arcade with my coding skills
i dare u 2 find another blog with an arcade

okkkkk

2005-11-01T16:21:00.000-08:00

another story written by dalvarez
Dalvarez
The Writer
The gray clouds threatened the town with thunder and lightning, warning its
few inhabitants of the rain that would soon come, of the drenching drops of
water that would fall swiftly upon the umbrellas of the people who would not
go inside.
"That's good…" he said out loud. He dipped his quill into the ink bottle and
continued to write. He was the most famous writer in the world, people said,
and the one with the most genuine mind. His audience would always be amazed
by his stories and his tales which he so easily came upon in the strangest
of places. However, few actually understood what he was trying to portray in
these stories, they only saw the magnificent grammar and use of words and
the beautiful writing he did, but they did not truly see the places, know
the people and understand their problems and answers and questions. Only he
knew this, because that was how he wrote these stories. He heard their
voices and the images in his dreams or while he was just walking down the
street. They would tell him their stories because he was the only one
willing to listen to them. The only one who was not frightened by the
thought of an invisible being telling them amazing tales, the only one who
was not perplexed by the strange voices. This was the life of a writer, he
believed. All I remember is beginning to think of how to form the words and
suddenly they began to write themselves with him guiding their every move.
This was how he explained his works.
The hours passed without ceasing their movement for a second, not bothering
to listen to the pleas of the people who begged for more time, more lives to
live, more creations to make. The sun set in an instant and the moon took
its place, shining down upon the lost spirits of the people wandering the
streets and homes. There was one home in particular the moon shone upon, the
house of the Artist. This home would strike fear upon the people with the
millions of papers strewn across the floors, taped upon the walls, the
sketches of nothing and everything one could imagine. He was responsible for
making that which was considered art. He was forever cursed with the need of
the people everywhere awaiting his results, and what he would get back from
his hard work was the admiration of the public, of course, but the criticism
of those who could never understand what it took to create, since they
themselves could never do it, they would criticize the works of those who
could. Nevertheless he continued to do it, because he loved to. Sure, the
work itself was impossible to bear at times, but the feeling, that special
feeling he would get when he reached for the pen or the pencil or the chalk
or the marker and began to write as fast as he could about the thoughts that
just crossed his mind and the thinking he had done was the best feeling in
the world. Nothing he had ever before done could ever compare to that
feeling of happiness, the feeling an Artist would receive when his mind came
upon the idea that would one day become a magnificent award winning story or
the greatest symphony ever written or the painting that would be worth all
the gold in the world was impenetrably amazing.
"Yes, that seems to be correct…but I mustn't stop now, no, not now…" he
mumbled and continued to scratch in the words of his new novel. It must have
been around 8 at night, he thought, the time could not have passed so
quickly for it to be more than that. But in fact it was past midnight, but
he did not realize that there wasn't a soul to be seen outside of his small
apartment. People always asked why he did not move to a bigger place, but he
simply said,
"I don't need a big house to write stories."
He finally looked at the clock and saw after writing 5 pages of his fabled
story he had not passed the hour and a half he always thought he had spent,
but he had spent 8 hours more than that. He wondered why the phone had not
rang, but then saw he had unplugged the power of it, and remembered the
night before when the phone was driving him crazy. He was not tired, but he
remembered what his good friend Alexi had told him and decided to sleep, at
least for a night. Sadly, his mind was pondering way too much still and he
would not fall asleep easily and decided it was not a bright idea to simply
waste time that he could spend writing. The rest if the night wore away
quickly as pages and pages continued to appear, full of beautiful words and
texts and as the brand new ink bottles he had bought quickly disappeared. It
must have been around sunrise when his brain finally ceased the ideas and
allowed him to rest. It was finally then, after all the voices and images
stopped that he could rest. He fell asleep on his desk and laid there for
what seemed like days, days he needed to sleep. The man was not a great fan
of sleeping. A waste of time he called it. Then again, he was really a bit
cynical at times, but people considered him a genius. Only a genius and a
true artist is willing to give up sleep for the love of his art. Others said
he was so poor he would not sleep because he needed to make money by selling
novels. These people were the critics he had spoken of in his story. It was
truly something he thought very strongly of, that one part in his story,
that small paragraph in comparison to the 100 and some pages he had written,
yet it seemed to be an essential part of the story. It was simply an
opinion, but it was one of those things that people did not truly
understand…yet it was considered art. It was odd, he thought. How people
regarded the simplest of things as art. He did not however, argue that it
was not art. He was a very self-contradictory man at times. This was one of
the traits he hated the most about him, how he would so often need to rely
upon friends like Alexi and Davis to help him realize the simplest things
one could think of. He was grateful to them of course, they played a great
role in his life and many stories somehow had them inside it. Whether they
be a simple character one would find crossing the streets of a city or a
dream, they were there.
"Wolfwood? Are you there, Wolfwood?" shouted a voice followed by loud
rapping upon the door. He awoke with a jump and cleared his eyes. He donned
his glasses and went for the door. He opened it and in front of him was his
friend Davis.
"Don't tell me you spent the whole night writing again, Wolfwood…you need to
rest sometimes, you know that, right?" he said, and went inside without
hearing a word from Wolfwood.
"Come on in, I'll make some coffee…" he said in a sarcastic manner. The door
banged shut.
"So how is it coming, anyway? Are you done with the story about that gem?"
asked Davis, removing his coat.
"It's Cerulean Lapis, Davis, I've told you…"
"Yeah, that's the one. Are you done with it?" he interrupted.
"I finished that days ago, I'm working on a new story. Let me tell you about
it." he said and got rather excited. He really loved to talk about his
stories.
"Here he goes again…" Davis mumbled, but listened nonetheless.
"It takes place in an old town, around the time that Japan was coming out of
the Meiji era and the United States was ending the Civil War. It's about a
man who is in charge of making all creation, all art, anything that would be
of interest. All except the music. That happens to be the department of
someone else but that someone…"
So he told Davis the story about The Writer. Then Davis asked him to for The
Cerulean Lapis, since he was his editor, and they both knew they needed to
make some cash, and fast. The life of a writer isn't an easy one, Wolfwood
would always say. Sure, you get fame and celebrity, but the actual money you
receive for your work isn't as much as people may think it to be. But it's
enough for Wolfwood, and its enough for Davis, so they have no problems.
Sure, a little more wouldn't be bad, but they couldn't ask for a miracle.
"Well, I suppose I'd best leave, get this corrected and published so the
money will start to roll in…but I won't leave unless you come with me.
You've been working much too hard and you deserve a little break, don't you
think?" Davis asked, with that look that clearly showed he would not take no
for an answer. Not that Wolfwood was going to say no, he was tired and a few
drinks wouldn't hurt…
"Well I suppose a small break wouldn't hurt… a man's got to live at least
once in a while, I suppose. Let's go." he said, and the two left the house
and got into Davis' small but quaint car and drove down the street to Main
Avenue and went to Davis' house to leave the story. They then went downtown
to the pub, where everyone raised a glass for the famous Wolfwood, to which
he bowed and took a seat on the bar.
"Gin and tonics on the rocks." he said.
"Make that two." said a recognizable voice behind him. He turned to see the
woman who would so often drop by his house to chat with her favorite writer.
"So you've finally left your cave, have you Mr. Wolfwood? What a pleasure to
see you on the town." she said and took a seat.
"Hey! Bartender, you didn't take my drink…" Davis whined, but took a seat.
"What a pleasant surprise to see you again, Miss Mina. I knew I'd find you
here today so I decided to drag this man out of his cavern." he laughed.
Wolfwood smiled.
"Yes, it is wonderful to see you here, Mina, since I had something I needed
to speak with you about." Wolfwood said, and Mina's eyes glittered in
surprise.
"Is that so? And just what would that happen to be, if I may ask?" she said
in an extremely sly voice.
"Well, why don't we step outside…I haven't had a smoke in a while." he said
and winked at her. He got up and stepped out the door, Mina following him.
"Hmm. I bring the man to have a drink and he goes with the girl. That is so
much like Wolfwood…" mumbled Davis, laughing. He drank up his glass and
ordered another. Outside the sun was going down slower than usual, something
Wolfwood was not used to. Time would never wait for him when he needed it
but today it seemed to be letting him do as he pleased. A black crow passed
by, catching Wolfwood's attention. An idea crossed his head but he decided
he would let it go, just this one time.
"I've been working on a new story, Mina and it's simply fantastic…" he began
to tell her. She sighed, disappointedly.
"Is that what this is all about? You brought me out here to tell me about
another of your stories? Really, Wolfwood, you make a girl wonder what is
going on sometimes…" she said, irritated. Wolfwood was completely
bewildered.
"What…what's wrong, Mina? You love hearing about me stories…don't you?" he
asked, confused.
"Of course I do, Wolfie, but you made me think you were finally going to… oh
just forget it. If I have to tell you then there's no point to me even
bothering. Sometimes I wonder if you can actually live outside of your
stories and see what's in front of you." she said and without saying a word,
she went back in the pub and a second later she came back out with her
jacket and called for a taxi.
"Mina, wait! You didn't even let me finish what I was going to tell you!" he
said.
"I don't need to, Wolfwood. Maybe you should answer your phone every once in
a while, you might be surprised how many times people call you because they
care about you and love talking to you, you know? But you know what? Never
mind." she said and got in a taxi and drove off, turning out of his sight.
Wolfwood knew now what had happened. She had obviously been attracted to
him, he knew this from the very beginning of course, but he never expected
her to act as she had just done. Their friendship had never needed to become
more in the past, and he had been happy as it was. But now, now he was
feeling like a foolish child for not having noticed her true feelings
before. He now realized how much he really cared about her, and inspiration
struck him. He dashed into the bar, told Davis he needed to go and without
any excuses they got in the car and drove to Wolfwood's home.
"What's the matter? Did Mina say something to you, or are you just having
one of your moments?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the road, which was now
beginning to show small drops of water falling. Wolfwood did not answer, it
was like he had not heard him. It was the voices again, telling him their
tales, telling him the inspiration. Davis gave up on getting his attention,
he knew Wolfwood well enough to know that he could not get easily distracted
when he was working, and since they were partners he did not argue about his
inspiration. He simply drove him home and told him to call him sometime
before Monday. Wolfwood got out of the car, waved to Davis and went inside
his apartment condominium. He rushed up the flight of stairs and thrust the
key into the door and went inside. He went to his desk immediately, which
was still filled with the millions of pages and notes and scribbles
mentioning ideas and characters. He grabbed the sheet where he had left off
his story, dipped the quill pen into the ink bottle and began to write:

"The rain finally ceased, and the man's sadness stopped with it. Suddenly
his heart was filled with an emotion he considered a stranger, an emotion
that he had before felt, of course, but never like this. Guilt, love,
passion, envy and a feeling of butterflies filled inside him and he stopped
his creation and went out of his cave. He saw there the reason for his odd
uproar of feeling: the woman of his life."

It was finished now, he thought, ready for the people who love my writing to
see this new, odd and crazy tale of The Writer.

Holla

2005-10-31T14:04:00.000-08:00

HOLLLLAAAAAAA
ok ok wait
HOLLLLLAAAAAAA

Who cares bout titles

2005-10-24T15:24:00.000-07:00

I now declare that I ligershea (seeing as it would be unprofessional for me to declare my name) will run for senate after I receive a satisfactory education (I couldn't very well run for senate now as I am only in the 7th grade) I shall use this website as well to publish my liberal propaganda (as a friend of mine, quite conservative, put it) I do admit that I am a liberal, very much so, and might even be a socialist in the making. I believe that there really are no true parties of beliefs for wouldn't that in itself be fascism. How can we call ourselves a democracy when it is clear that we are quite capitalist. We boast that we are a true democracy, but if that were true we wouldn't need a president. We would all vote on issues. Hitherto that presents issues as all of us, seeing as we are a capitalist country, must work and study and fuel the fire of fascism that runs our country. A true socialist democracy wouldn't require currency. No economy would be necessary. The electoral college is yet another example. We elect the most important of officials by voting, but who we vote for doesn't matter quite as much as where we live, population determines who we elect not popular vote.

all right

2005-10-14T13:03:00.000-07:00

ok here we go you read dalvarez's story now give mine a chance im sorry if it offends anyone

Ligershea

We all stood there a group of sweaty mourning men . We were trying to immigrate to America . We were traveling on foot . Many of us didn't have shoes because the hot sand had melted the rubber soles right into the desert . Those who didn't have shoes got sand embedded in their feet making each step almost too painful to keep going . Our wives and children had gone on a truck that was camped a mile ahead of us .

A sand storm had begun and our guide was nowhere to be found . We had to keep going ahead anyway . If daylight came it would be too hot to go on . The man next to me tripped on a stick-like thing protruding out of the sand . On closer inspection it was a bloody finger burned by the hot sand . We decided to start digging by it to see if it was attached to our guide . There were gasps and some of the younger men vomited . Our guide had been caught in the sand storm and buried alive . He had very stupidly poked a hole in he sand for air . I say it was stupid because suffocation would be a much better death than being slowly baked alive . We prepared the best burial we could under the circumstances .Many of the men clouded by their grief kissed our crisp guide . I was not surprised by the death of our guide . I had tried to immigrate once before with my eldest son . He got a heat stroke and I had to carry him the rest of the way . When we crossed the border , I took him to a hospital . They refused us in five minutes after my son started to talk in his hallucination about the trip over . We were deported . He died halfway back .

At this point one might think why did I try to come to America ? I was wiser than this but still the questions that no one wanted to hear the answer of kept popping up in my head like a salesman who you have rejected . Where is my wife ? Will I be strong enough after the walk to climb the bordering fence ? Can we even find the last barrier holding us back from freedom without our guide ?

I had made this trip before with just as much doubt as I had now . But why ? Why was I worried ? We wouldn't run out of water . Our wives would be fine . I told myself this over and over again but still I could not reassure myself . For I knew deep in my heart that this trip wouldn't end it would keep going on and on forever . I laughed . It wasn't the kind of pitying laughs that I gave some of my juvenile companions . No , it was the kind that you scream . That is what I did . I laughed so that the entire desert could hear me . My allies the ones that had held me up when I collapsed for need of food or water now held me down like I was some kind of animal trying to attack them . I lashed out knocking one of them off but the others' arms stayed stiffened locking me down to earth .

It was day now as I opened my eyes . The scum that I used to call my friends asked someone to bring water .

" You had a mental meltdown from the heat , " said Padre in Spanish .

" Yes , I would not tell Tita if I were you , " said his twin brother , " she would probably worry . "
How dare that scum say the name of my wife . She would not worry she would help me not hold me down . All of a sudden I thought wait I would have done the same thing as they did . Why am I so angry at them ? They did nothing wrong . They did something right even . I rarely thought of people doing something right unless it was me or had my blood coursing through their veins .

" I am sorry I lashed out at you . You did exactly what you should have , " I said somewhat reluctantly , " it is what I would have done . I will be ready to press on at nightfall . "

" Good , " said Padre since he was the only one who wasn't so depressed he couldn't talgry that they killed the woman and used her as food .

As night fall approached we got ready to move out . The men had made me some crutches out of hardened cacti . They were flimsy and useless but I accepted them anyway since they had worked so hard on them . The needles had been stripped from them but it still hurt to press to hard against the lumps where the needles were . We approached the truck that held our beloved's in its walls . I was breathing heavily now not from exhaustion but from worry . I dropped the makeshift crutches and ran . I ran like I never had before . The sweat was poring down my face . I sat down . I had moved half a mile and still hadn't reached the truck . The damn image was a mirage but not the worst kind of mirage that's fake . This was real , the truck was actually there just farther away than my eye told me . I waited for the men to catch up . I was surprised that they had not run . We finally reached the truck it had actually been three miles farther than I had first thought . We opened the back doors just like before but with a different result no one was there . No corpses no bones . Nothing . How ? How could I have let this happen ? I had the experience with such manners being a coroner when I was in my homeland . It was over . It was now my turn to hold down my allies for it was them having the violent fits . Except for Padre he wasn't even crying . He was the only one other than me not giving in to emotion . Of all the thirty three people I did not suspect him of being strong .

After four brutal days and three gruesome nights the men had pulled themselves back together . I nodded to Padre and he nodded back . We ventured on knowing that we would never see those women and children again . I sighed . Now I had no reason to cross the border . I would have made enough money as a coroner to support myself . At this thought those haunting questions came back into my head . What next ? Why'd I come ? Could I have prevented this ?

We went on for days . Stopping and certain points to make memorials for our lost brethren . Only the weak wanted this done . I scorned them for taking up precious resources to make useless memorials that would be buried in sand just like our guide .

We made it to the fence . The only thing left . This was it the one thing I had hoped to help my family across . This was the bridge to being able to get a good job .

The men all ran for cover and I did too . For there were two border police cars . No ! How could this happen ?

The border police uttered something to us but we were all naive of the meaning since we only spoke our mother tongue . Padre grew frightened and didn't want to lose everything . So he threw a rock at one of the guards heads . The man collapsed . The three other guards fired rounds purposely missing us . Everyone threw rocks now . The guards ran behind the doors to their patrol cars . I knew this was foolish but what could I do . I threw no rocks but still another guard went down . Now the guards became serious they did not purposefully miss . Padre linked . He then collapsed lifeless . Two others were shot . I took this moment to try and climb the fence . The guards turned on me one shot me in the ankle the other shot me in then arm . I fell over the fence . I lay in a heap defenseless . I was shot once more . The bullet punctured my lung . I was able to pull out my journal and finish this entry before I will die . My companions all died except for one who ran back into the desert he will die eventually . The women must have thought we were dead and climbed the fence and been caught that was why the border police were waiting for us . I now knew the answer to those damn questions . I now knew I should not have come .

" Why ? " I cried to the guards .

They hung their heads and called for something I found out later was an ambulance . I was rushed to the same accursed hospital that had rejected my son . There was my wife in a hospital bed across from where I lay down still on a gurney on life support . I didn't want to live . A translator stepped in and a doctor . The doctor said something in the mindless language of the Caucasians in America and the translator asked me if I wanted to have surgery done .

" Will that woman be all right ? " I asked .

The translator told this to the doctor and then told me the doctors response .

" She's in critical condition . Probably not . Why do you ask ? "

" She is my wife without her I do not wish to live , " I said .

I was taken off life support . I barely have enough strength to write this . I understand now . I was a fool just like the corpses back by the fence . I ________

here we go

2005-10-13T15:18:00.000-07:00

Dalvarez

Two Friends
The day was not one of the greatest the little town of Nibleheim had seen.
The sky was gray, and not a ray of sunlight could be seen. All around the
town, monstrous mountains surrounded the place. In the middle of the town,
where the large well was, 2 kids were sitting. One was a boy, with bright
blonde hair, and the other was a girl, with dark brown hair.
"I wonder when those expedititioners are going to come to town. It would be
fun to see them working in the mines, don't you think so, Sarah? My mom said
that my dad was going to come home with them too!" said the blonde boy. The
girl, Sarah, sighed and said,
"First of all, they're called expeditioners. But I think they're coming
today."
"Really?!" asked the boy, excited.
"That's what my mommy said." Sarah replied. Right then, the town gates were
being opened. 2 trucks were coming through the road.
"They're here, they're here, they're here!" screamed the boy in excitement.
He jumped off the well and ran over to where the trucks were. The trucks had
parked, and the men were getting out, one by one. The boy waited for his
father to come out, but he never did.
"Where's your dad, Vash?" asked the girl, catching up to him.
"I don't know, mommy said he was coming home with them…" he replied. One of
the men saw the 2 kids and went up to them.
"Are you the son of Vincent, little boy?" he asked, kneeling down to see his
face. Amadeus nodded; his face rather expressionless.
"Why don't you take me to where your mommy is? I need to talk to her, okay?"
he said, smiling. Vash muttered a quiet ‘okay' and started going to where
his house was. Sarah stayed there, watching them walk away. He led the man
home, to where his mother was cooking supper. She smiled at Amadeus, and
then looked at the man, worried.
"Vash, did you get in trouble again?" she said, no longer smiling.
"No, no, it's nothing like that ma'am. I'm here about your husband." he
explained. Vash decided his mother would now tell him to go up to his room,
so he saved her the words and headed upstairs, but stopped in the last step
and sat down, quietly listening to what they were saying.
"Oh, okay. Well do sit down, sir. May I offer you something? Tea, coffee?"
she said, hurrying to the kitchen.
"No, that's quite alright ma'am. I would rather get straight to business, if
you don't mind." he replied, taking a seat.
"Oh, okay that's fine. Now what was it about my husband you were telling
me?" she asked, walking back and talking a seat directly across from the
man.
"Yes, well. As you know, Vincent left with me and a few other men last year
to go to the mines in the east. When we finally arrived and joined up with
the other men who had also come to make their share of money, we began to
mine. We mined day and night, finding around 5 or 6 valuable nuggets of gold
or silver, which we gave to the boss. He would each day give us our share of
the worth of those nuggets. Then one day, as we were mining, we discovered
something incredible. We mined into what looked like an underground,
deserted cave. The boss decided that me and Vincent should go in and return
with treasure which we would get more than the usual amount. He provided us
with 3 other men for protection. Vincent and I were very excited by this,
and eagerly accepted. The cave seemed to glow an eerie green color, which
grew stronger and stronger as we continued in. All that we could see were
the walls, and what seemed like an endless passage. No one had brought a
watch or clock, so we had no idea how long we were walking, but it seemed
like hundreds of miles. After hours and hours of walking, we finally came to
a door. It was just a simple, wooden door. We thought it couldn't be too
old, and a sign was next to the door. It seemed to have faded over the time,
but we could distinctly read the words, ‘Area-ahead-danger-enter-risk.' We
decided we were well enough protected and that if someone had taken the time
to make this tunnel, there must have been a good purpose. We tried to open
the door, but it would not budge. One of the men took out a lock pick, and
we finally got it open. Through that door was something none of us ever
expected to find. The walls were now glowing bright green; this was clearly
the source of the shine. It was an escalated room, and it had rows of stone
floor. Gigantic tubes were all over the place, except for through the
middle. In the rows, the tubes were all going into these giant cylindered
glass containers that were filled with water. Inside of each was a different
thing…there were creatures, monsters, aliens, demons, everything! All the
most strange and mutated things anyone could have thought of. They all
seemed to be sleeping, or dead. We didn't particularly want to find out if
they were either. Up the steps in the middle, up at the top was a door. Much
like the one we had just gone through, but this one was metal. We didn't
know what to do. We didn't know if we should try and see what happened if we
went through the door, or if we should have gone back and reported this to
the boss. That's when Vincent said we couldn't leave empty-handed, that we
must go in and see what's behind that door. But after seeing the mutated
creatures inside here, we did not want to know what was inside there.
Vincent did not seem to care what we said, and started to go up the steps.
That's when…the things…woke up. They're eyes…they were bright red, shining
evilly at us. We heard hissing, and before we knew it, the creatures were
getting out of their glass containers and coming near us. Vincent took out
his gun, but when he did that…the creatures, they jumped on him. I tried to
help him, but one of the creatures attacked me as well! They all attacked
us, and the bullets we shot at them seemed to do nothing to them! The men
tried to run, and for a while they did seem like they had gotten away, but
then we heard them scream…they had been killed. Vincent was screaming in
pain, and I was trying to get to him but the other monsters did not let me…
then he shouted to me ‘You have to run, Richard, you have to get away alive!
Go through that door!!' But I could not leave him there. I tried shooting
the creatures, to get their attention. But they only began to come after me,
while Vincent was still unable to move, paralyzed by the pain the things had
caused…then my gun ran out of bullets. I had nothing to protect myself,
except a lighter. I searched quickly for it, and the creatures feared the
flames. They all ran away, some went back into their containers. I did not
hesitate a second; I took the opportunity and took Vincent and ran. I raced
up those steps as fast as I could. I kicked the door, but it did not budge.
Next to it was an electronic lock, so I tried that. I pressed the button and
it hissed open. But past the door wasn't an exit…there was another room.
Tubes and pipes all lead to the gigantic container in the center of the
room. The source of the light was this, the liquid inside of here. Inside
that neon green liquid was a small body, one of a child. He looked so much
like your little boy… Vincent was getting more tired and the pain was
getting worse for both of us. We decided we had to get out now before those
creatures returned. Past the tubes and pipes, on the left side of the room
was a small hallway to another door. I raced over the pipes, with Vincent
over my shoulder. I kicked the door open, and found out this room was not an
exit either. It looked much like a laboratory, there were tables filled with
papers and pens and quills and containers filled with that same neon liquid.
A board was in the front of the room, with writing that had been scribbled
quickly, equations everywhere. I did not take time to look at it, or the
papers or any of the millions of books around the walls. I raced to the door
to the right of the room, and found out this was an exit. A very narrow
hallway made of metal walls lead the way to a ladder, from which light was
seen. I raced to the ladder, climbed it. Vincent seemed to be trying to tell
me something but I did not stop to listen. He needed medical attention. I
came out of the top of an old well, inside a meadow of green trees. The town
where we were staying had to be somewhere near, so I walked and walked and
walked. I walked past the mining tent, and went into the medical tent next
to it. The men all looked at me like I was mad, but I did not care. I
explained to the doctor that Vincent was dieing and he needed to be treated
immediately. He took no time to start taking off the dirty, bloody clothes
and putting on clean robes. He told me he would do his best to help him and
that I should ask the tent next to the one there for help, but I said I did
not need anything. I raced out of the tent, and explained everything to the
boss. After that, he told me to stay in the medical ward and get treated and
seen by a doctor, which I did. Vincent seemed to be recovering slowly, the
first days he couldn't talk, or move…but slowly he would wake up at times,
asking for me. I explained what had happened, and he told me to come here
and explain this all to the wives and families of the men who had been
killed. He told me to tell you not to worry, that he would be home on the
next train to Nardel City, and would be here when he could."
The woman's face had been through so many expressions and horrible looks and
frightened screams all through the story. She had cried at the thought of
her husband dieing, but her tears seemed to cease when she heard he was
coming home.
"So…he's returning?" she asked quietly. The man nodded.
"Thank y-you for telling me, sir." she said, shaking his hand. He smiled,
and left the house. Amadeus was sitting there, paralyzed. He could not
believe what he had just heard. His father had been in an adventure so wild
and dangerous, he nearly died! He was so excited to see him now. He had so
many questions to ask…

He ran downstairs, a big smile over his face. His mother seemed to be
waiting for him. She told him she needed to tell him something.
"I know, mom. Dad was in a big adventure! And he almost died, and he
discovered some crazy aliens!" he said, extremely excited and overjoyed. His
mother looked at him in surprise and a look that could clearly mean, ‘Why is
he so happy?'
"I was listening to you and the man talk. When is dad coming home?" he
explained. His mother's expression seemed to become less tense now.
"When the next train to the city arrives there, then he'll take about a day
more to get to our town. I think maybe a week, honey." she said, smiling.
She too was happy he would soon be home. No matter how terrified she may
have been, she too wanted to know how he had felt, what he'd seen. Amadeus
asked if he could go play.
"Sure, just be home before dark!" she said as he raced out the door. He ran
as fast as he could towards the well, wishing nothing more than to tell
Sarah what he had just heard. He reached the well finally, but to his
surprise, Sarah was not there anymore. She probably had gone home to be with
her father, since he too went with the expedition. He thought he'd just tell
her what he heard tomorrow. I mean there was no hurry. He went back home and
went to bed early. The stars slowly came out, one by one…until Amadeus'
little eyes closed and he fell into a deep slumber…

The next morning he awoke when the sun was already up, and the sound little
birds twittering outside could be heard from his window. It was a beautiful,
sunny day. Perfect for going to the mountains with Sarah, he thought. He got
out of bed, put on new clothes and tried to brush his wild blonde hair, but
after it simply would not stay down for the 5th time, he threw the brush
aside and went outside. His mother was hanging clothes out in the backyard,
so he went past the gate of his house and gave her a good-morning kiss on
the cheek. She told him he could go play as long as he got in no trouble,
and came back before lunch. He said he would, like he did everyday and went
to the well to look for Sarah. But like yesterday, she was not there. She
was either not awake yet, or she was just staying at her house for now.
Either of the 2 meant she was home so he started walking to her house. The
little garden in front it the house was abloom with flowers of the most
beautiful colors and enchanting fragrances that he had ever seen. He had
always loved flowers; he thought they were what made the world colorful. He
gently knocked on the door 3 times, and footsteps quickly made their way
towards him. The door opened, revealing Sarah's lovely mother.
"Oh! Why, hello Amadeus. How are you today?" she asked, pretending to be
sweet. Her face showed something that was not at all the sweetness she
usually.
"Hi Mrs. Lockhart, is Sarah home?" he asked, looking a bit impatient and
trying to look past her. But she did not move to let him in.
"She is…but I'm not sure if she wants to see you right now, honey. She's…a
little upset." she said kindly. Amadeus did not understand. Had he done
something he was not aware of?
"But…why is she mad?" he asked innocently. Mrs. Lockhart looked at him,
confused. Does he not know, she thought?
"Well, the thing is…why don't you go on up and see her, Amadeus, maybe
you'll understand then." she said, but she was no longer smiling. He didn't
hesitate on passing through, and slowly made his way up the stairs. He could
now see Sarah's room, the door ajar. He walked silently towards it,
wondering why she was mad. He opened the door, and saw Sarah, just laying on
her bed, looking up at the ceiling.
"Hey Sarah! What's up, how come you weren't at the well? I have to tell you
something I heard at home! It's the most amazing adventure I've ever heard,
see my dad-"
"I know! Your dad went and found a cave and got my dad killed! It's his
fault that I can never see my daddy again, it's all his fault! It isn't fair
he got to live but my daddy will never come back to me!! I hate you! I hate
you and all your family because it's your fault! It's your fault that
I….never…" she screamed, trying hard to beat Amadeus down but he simply held
her arms. He didn't understand…
She began crying, sobbing into his arms. He simply held her. Held her like
his mother would do so often when he heard a scary story, or had a bad
dream…but never had he been through something like this. He didn't know what
it could feel like to have someone you love dead…
Mrs. Lockhart came into the room, and saw her daughter sobbing into Amadeus'
arms, and her face too began to tear. Amadeus still did not understand, but
he continued to hold his best friend in his arms, trying to console her.

For the next few days, the two friends didn't talk much. The event had
scarred them both, even Amadeus. Vincent – his father – had arrived the day
after what had happened at the Lockhart house. Amadeus was happy to see him,
and even happy when he heard his story, but what had happened at Sarah's
house had been something he could never forget. He could never blame his own
father for doing his job, but sometimes…just sometimes, he thought only for
a second that maybe it was his fault…

changes

2005-10-13T15:16:00.000-07:00

alright now that this site has more than one viewer a friend and I are using this to post are writing
all posts with a heading "Dalvarez" are my friends writing but i have posted it for him

sigh

2005-10-12T19:39:00.000-07:00

I've lost faith in this site i mean is anyone actually reading it or making comments other then one of my friends

Finger Pointing

2005-09-13T17:49:00.000-07:00

Does it really matter who is at fault for the terrible relief of Katrina? I don't think so. All that matters is that it never happens again. Right?

Katrina

2005-09-10T18:19:00.000-07:00

Katrina is a most disgraceful event in U.S. history. Never have I fancied the idea of saying I'm
Canadian than now

Welcome

2005-08-27T18:44:00.000-07:00

This is the blog/forums of my other website http://home.comcast.net/~ligershea/wsb/html/view.cgi-home.html-.html