My story writing

I write stories, if you didn't know from my other blogs, but that's not the point. The thing is, it's hard to find inspiration, to find what tugs me in that direction and what appeases to the audience. It pisses me off that things like this are changed so much...

Well, lets get on with this. My first story, that i've been trying to write for so long! is hatchet deep in the stump of writer's block and I stopped at Chapter 5. Now my second story, hopefully will not suffer the same consequences, considering that it's off to a very good start, but its been an increasingly hard uphill struggle. At times I forget to meet my personally set quota and I miss writing a chapter on some days. I'm getting flooded by thought and it's tough to keep writing with no thoughts and opinions, no reason for it, no inspiration except from whats around me (which is usually enough). Besides that, I still think its going to be a compelling story, for a lot of people, but I need to finish it first, before anything...

Here's my first chapter in Deliverance.

Chapter 1
Our fair city…

Hookers. God damn dirty hookers. I know it’s definitely not a good opening line to my life, but damn is it one that really sums up what I think of the group. I mean, what the hell sort of right do they have to walk up to someone and offer sex? Even someone as young as me! What the hell is wrong with our city. Ha! Our city. That’s a train of thought that hasn’t been acknowledged for a while.
This city, this dump of a God damned hole of complete disregard for life. Filth is what this city has become. Become? Or has it always been this way? I don’t even care anymore, I don’t want some historical bullshit dollop on my lap for my to just bask in the smell. School around here shut down anyway, since they started bombing them.
Schools were okay, but the teachers had no real eagerness to teach us. There wasn’t, I think, a single person who really wanted to handle the sadistic generation we were. I pitied them. They had to deal with us while we were in school, they didn’t have much of a choice. Our lot was a lot of the worst society shat out on a silver platter. Who could deal with us? Aetus Damnare, is what they called our generation in Latin terms. In layman’s terms it means Generation of the Damned. How’s that for dark and bleak? We can’t help it, I suppose, we’re only products of what our parents were, Generation X. When the internet came to be, I’m not sure if that was good or bad, really, but a lot of things seemed to have happened since then, like a big explosion. Hell, there’ve been a lot of explosions since then.

I’m exiting Fall Out, the local safe house for people of my ilk, which is what people call “useless.” I suppose we don’t have much use, but who makes the signs, who sprays the tags, who makes the murals that inspire, who displays who’s block is who’s so that people know what to expect?
I’m walking on Madison Street, going to the Millennium Neutralities. That’s a joke. Neutralities? Millennium is a war zone, most of the artwork there has been pillaged, scrapped, destroyed for money that everyone so desperately needs. Most of the works have been salvaged, except The Bean. Nobody goes near The Bean. A group of doomsayers housed up there, they stole the guns from Manny’s Sport Shop and they attack anyone stupid enough to travel up the steps.
The only really peaceful section of Millennium is the Promenade and the Faces. I know the girl who runs the Promenade area now, she’s got a nice business with her café there, it’s pretty nice. It’s where I’m headed now. The Faces on the other hand are neutral because it’s a general agreement, on all turf, that that’s where the lead thug headers meet and it’s where the kids all come to play.
I’m not one for caring where or how the kids play, but at least there’s one specific area for them to be cared for. The Faces have pretty much turned into an outdoor community center. This cities play areas are pretty limited nowadays, I suppose. Ever since the Rebel Reclamation, Chicago really has changed. It’s surviving pretty much on its own and doing a damn good job of it to be honest.
All over what was America, cities and towns were being ground down into cesspools, but Chicago, has stayed as pure as can be with grime swishing around its’ ankles. I guess that’s why they call this place Deliverance. That’s always what it’s known for, Deliverance, for any refugee that’s recovering from post-reclamation shellshock. It’s made this city overpopulated and with too many people in one place at one time, something was bound to happen.
What happened was that in one week, every gang that could, grabbed turf. Fights started happening, people started dying, everybody who wasn’t part of a gang stayed inside their homes. The refugee population was halved, since they didn’t quite have homes. It’s famously known around here as the Uprising. Everything changed that week. Deliverance was split into war on all fronts and within itself.
After that week, it was done, people went outside, but all the rival forces were at a standstill, so they drew ceasefires. I was there when they all shook hands in solemn silence at the Faces. Everywhere was hit hard, but Millennium Park was the bloodbath. It was where we all knew just how bad it got. Bodies all over and still twitching people lay in pain and agony, all of them refugees, who set up there to use the water that the Faces spat. It was at the very moment that ever rival gang shook hands that the Faces sprayed water onto the surfaces, like a pitiful washing the city clean of filth.
No matter what, it still resolved so many problems, it made everything peaceful ground, everything was fine. Then the American Government came back. It’s been open hostilities in certain places for months now, but I’m still not used to the gunfire. I always hated guns, always did, since I watched the Uprising from my room, since I saw the shot which killed my mother, since I watched the peace treatise in Millennium.
So many things that are against so many other things. That’s all it looks like to me, I feel grief or sorrow for what has happened lately, for what has happened in the past, but I can’t do anything can I? It’s all so complicated. Nothing makes sense anymore, especially since the Seraphim came. It feels like a fairy tale.

I’m between the faces, I stand there for a moment, taking in the still operating faces of the two towers which trickle water every few minutes. I look at both of them and then I look in the water at the ground, looking at my reflection. I smile and shrug, going on to the Promenade, life doesn’t have to be so gloomy, at least I’ve got a good haircut.


Hope it sounds good.

The Filth and other comics

I've lately been reading lots of comics, I mean lots. Each otf them has some serious story to it, making it all the better read for me, because I don;t really like the kind of story that just lays it all out on a table. It's gotta be jumpy or extremely in depth, like the oh so classic Watchmen.

But I've taken to reading lesser known comics and some very good classics, I'll give the rundown and my reviews.

First up,

The Filth



The Filth is a rather expansive story about a man who had left a group of people known as The Hand because of what he had to do. Now his duties were often to be the "clean up crew" for the world. He was part of a special team, in which he was then pitted against various adversaries to deal with, though not just your average run-of-the-mill villain, but he would go against these sick deviants with horrid intentions. It was really weird, seeing how graphic and blatant that The Filth could become in certain parts, but it really set the expansive mood, showing that what people might do in there spare time, might be a bit more than just speculation.

Total A+ read for me, it had me at hello, when he went on his first trip to his last one. Wonderful writing and a good graphic storyline.

Next is...

Hellblazer



Now, who doesn;t know the story of John Constantine these days? Very few don;t know who he is, but that's only because of the film Constantine in which John Constantine was portrayed by the famous Keanu Reeves. This wasn;t the best choice admittedly, since Mr. Reeves is a terrible actor, and quite unfit for the part, but the movie was alright, despite. The real story of John Constantine is many times better, with much more depth and feeling to it. Hellblazer is still continuing, and is very popular among nerds like me.

I love Constantine, he is one of my favorite comic book characters as of reading the comics.

Last one for now,

Y: The Last Man



An interesting take of the "last man on Earth" situation, since in this comic, the protaganist really is the last man on Earth, literally. Among the worlds female population, the last man on earth, Yorick Brown, emerges onto the hell which has become the world. And all he wants is to find his girlfriend. Yorick gets roped up into actiuons that move to fast for him and he is sent all across the world to try and save humanity. No, not by fornication, but by clones.

A great take on one of my favorite questions (what it would be like to be the only man on earth) and it really delivers in material. Brian K. Vaughn is a genius in telling this story.

I'm eager to get my hands on more good material, preferably Vertigo comics, so I can get some cool mind expanding ideas. Or melt my brain in the process.

This is Matthias, rollin' out.

Inspiration?

I think its because I just always have this little spark to keep hauling on, nothing real special, but it makes me want to persevere. I continue this blog because I keep thinking, maybe someone will read it and agree with me, maybe someone will find it interesting, maybe someone will actually like it, but reality begs to differ.

I have been on this site for close to three months and I have three followers. Maybe its my lack spreading the word, but it's hard to do when you can't drive or go places. So, I suppose when I actually start back into school, maybe I can post things up, get hype for my blog so I can get followers, but even then, I keep wondering, what keeps me going?

I have been asked where my inspiration comes from and what first comes to mind for me is, I have inspiration? When I'm writing this I don;t know how I feel, I don;t know what I feel, I just feel. Is that inspiration? Because otherwise I'd have to chock up stupid and ironic quotes, but that's not really what I try to capture when I write this.

I don't know what fuels me, but emotions have something to do with it.


I got a friend who checks out my blogs occaisionally, tells me about how he likes them and criticism and that jazz, but he also asks, "Why do you even try?" Probably because I have so few actual readers...

This is Matthias, back in a few more.

Love, Matthias.

It may be a litle to early to for Valentine's day. but I just want to think about, well, love. Such a basic and powerful emotion of the human mind, this love. Love which shakes walls down to their cornerstones.

We have all tried and tested the thought and existence of love, no doubt, with varying results. We have all tried to fill that strange ache we have in our chests, to cope with the solitude that is thrust unto us all. Many antidotes and anecdotes have been used, Religion, Science, Work, but have any of them really made you feel whole? I mean truly, did they make you complete, make you feel lke you were something to behold? Surely it will be argued, but you know, oh you know that nothing else matters until you fill that deep void, that deep longing within you.



Love has been described as many things. As a burning ember within the soul, as a embrace of fuzzy feeling, even as described as panes of glass. But embers can die and feelings can cease and glass is fragile, but love is like the purest of matter, the truest of unbreakable bondage, which can never be severed or broken. Do you ever stop loving someone? Do you ever truly loathe the person whom you once shared intimacies with? No, life does not work in such a manner that can allow this. It is almost inhuman to truly do so, resulting in the loss of your soul, for turning all hate and letting thr deep darkness flood you wil destroy the very fathoms of your soul. Yet, maybe that's what you want?

Love is a destroyer and a creator. Well, self-explanatory, without being explicit. We all know that love has properties which truly can make ones life whole, ones life comeplete, but there is also the menacing falacies of love. Love, when buried hatchet deep into a tree trunk, seems to turn on you, seems to become your enemy. You hate the one(s) you love and isolate yourself, from where you can become something you never wanted to be in the first place alone. Such things will happen and you could survive, you could continue, but what if you can't, you will bear that open wound all your life, letting more lifeblood fall everytime it is touched upon. Yes, it will happen as such. Love is forever, but so are the deep scars it leaves.



I find myself glad, almost, that i stare up at my ceiling every night at 1 AM, thinking, "Why? Why am I the one alone? Why is there no one?" Truth is, I'm content with not being with anyone, I may be bitter for my age, I may be an extremely blunt unfunny asss who shoves his foot so far down his throat that it tickles my kideys, but hell, I'm not the one who is stuck in the rut.



I've met so many people, so many who wish they could have just not done it, but you know, I hate that. When I truly feel that I should not and believe that I cannot have such feeling, my friends are forsaking what chances they should take. My friends are taking the fact that they have true chances, that they can be more than just the person next to them, they can be the person with them, the person close to them.



And when my friends stop taking in the damned puppy love of children, of people my age, maybe they can realise that life has so few chances, life has so few times that you can make real differences. I'm going to help them as much as I truly can, counseling them to my best abilities, but I can't change them, they must be changed, maybe they might see it like me, maybe not. Life goes on.

You know, though this is already so drawn out, I read a quote a while back by a famous man whose name was Boethius. He said, "A man content to go to heaven alone will never go to heaven." I agree 100% for you can't be alone, you can't, but allow me a fantasy, that some people, some very few, don't need someone.

This is Matthias, signing off.



Matthias feels 30, but is only half of that.

DeviantArt: http://matthiasbrokefree.deviantart.com/

Patriotism: needed? overpowering? war?

Hey reader,



I know its only been, whhat, two days since I last posted? Helll, it's the American weekend, so I thought I'd entreat my self to a bit more talk time.

Now, let me open by saying, I do NOT have anything against America. You can call me un-patriotic (etc, etc.), but you may not call me a terrorist. Simply because my voice is different and may contain a bit more of an unruly state, maybe sometimes prone to violence, does not mean that I believe in the ideals of using terror as a means for promotion.



Thinking on it, America does that alot and announces it as patriotism!

Alright, let me turn up System of a Down and begin my rant/rave/rant-rant.

Maybe its just my inability to settle in with any society, but in my opinion, America won't shut its big fat gob. Everyone in America, can't seem to get the fact that--NO GODDAMMIT NOBODY GIVES TWO FLYING SHITS ABOUT HOW GREAT YOUR COUNTRY IS. Maybe its because I'm not white, but I don;t seem to give a sod about how great America is. Sure, they've done a great many things, many of which are truly exceptional, but we all can't fall back on the past to show what we are now. I mean, by choice America has decided it is now completely different from what it once was. Well, Obama at least grasps some sort of idea of change, but I don;t think he looks to the outcome.



I think we've all heard how Obama announced that America was no longer a Judeo-Christian country. There was a lot of butthurt about that, especially from Christians, Catholics, (etc. etc.). It now causes me to take in how much more idiotics and talk of politics are now included into sermons! I mean, me! The average Churchgoer, the average believer, to know and pay attention to society. Should it not be that both thhe House of God and the House of the Senate live in two existences? We cannot combine two things which contradict and prove only the will to disrupt each other. What do we see now, though? As I stated, politics is heavily weighted in the religious houses, and religion is largely found annoying by politics.



Should either of them just done away with, we could then live a more peaceful existence. Is it too much to ask for an anti-depressant to remedy this? Before we need to to group therapy and weight loss counseling?
Great figures fought for our right to these things, fought for the things we now cast down and ignore. Take a look at the Constitution some times and all of the amendments. Read all of them. How many do you actually take advantage of? Of all the freedoms, of all the things we were given, what have you done to take advantage of this freedom? Have you spoken openly, knowing you had an opinion and that it would be important? Have you criticized the Government lately? Have you voted before? Of course, there are things you may have done, but only by taking advantage of all these things may you become true American. A true American should not be too fooled by politics, nor too aptly fooled by relgion, he/she should be able to have an even consistency of both. A true American should hate its government for its flaws but love it for what it has succeeded in. A true American should see that everyone is the same, everyone is equal and all that has happened is a system of balance. Kept in check by what we do and what we don;t do. Every American should strive to break that balance, let the everyday become an item of the past.

Too many people do not strive for these things, the people known as the mainstream media, but what can we do to let this stop? Nothing. I may be just ranting for nothing, but we truly can do nothing save for destroy our government, topple and reform every religion and then project mass amounts of genocide and gratuitous lack of action. Oh. Wait. This is happening.



God help us, World War 3, here we come,

Matthias out.

Freedom, again?

Today, which is also my first post for July, also considering it's the 4th, I'm gonna make a lengthy one, heh.

So, back to my point; Freedom is a gift, but gifts are given only to leave expectation. To get the 'gift' of freedom, you have to live your life completely free. Know that if you're free, then you must acknowledge that you cannot be tied down. Freedom is a gift, but it is also a curse. With freedom comes the price you must pay, the people who must suffer, the things you must go through to acquire. This may seem a cliche, but "Freedom isn't free."



The gift of freedom, isn't given of whim, or because you deserve it, it is given expectantly. Often it will be given with several items, several (un-needed and idiotic) requirements, or even guilt trippage. The worst things. It's what I affectionately call, "Catch 22." Mhm, you may know it. The Catch 22 situation is when you are left with one situation that is both good and bad and one situation that is bad and good. Honestly, it's like burning children to save the earth or burning the earth to save children. Which one is better? It's different, but hell, its free.

The curse of freedom descends to every generation, struggling teens desperate to make an image usually try to find freedom the most. To my belief, the leading cultures of every decade are always the ones trying to establish themselves, but only fell to the mainstream, so it became unoriginal, tied down. Think of the Flappers of the Roarin' 20's, it was first a few girls who decided it was cool, then it turns to be a nation-sweeping frenzy. the 30's and 40's lacked all originality and the 50's had more iconic music. 60's speak for itself, and 70's shouldn't be revisited. 80's was alright and the 90's had grunge, but that's not my point. My point is, that everything had something special and it all was exploited, like it always always is.

There always was some sort of price, but you know it's sometimes alright, it's sometimes worth it. It's always worth something.

Oh, well, I rambled far too long...


You never know the real freedom of living until come three inches from giving up living.

Well, let me update people who may be reading on my whereabouts,

I'm in South Dakota right now and am currently being a tourist. It's quite nice here and there are some great places to visit. Today, I was at the bad lands, I'll upload some. The Badlands also was responsible for my opening statement, haha, I nearly fell off the cliffs!

Well, Mattthias out, hugs and kisses, and all that cal.

Quote Play: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

"The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain." Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I love this quote (I say that about a lot of my quotes), but this one includes some in depth thought, or some simple pondering. Also, it's simple for me to explain, even with my current sickness.



Like it says, just let it rain. Let everything continue on its way as it should, as natures takes its course. Why interfere with the natural lay of the land?

That's one way to explain it, simply letting life live. The other way is a more optimistic view.

You know the rains coming down, so you gotta realize that the rain isn't going to stop just because you want it to. Just endure it and sit it out, because there's gonna be sun shining right after. Live and let live.





Short simple to the point, more than usual, heh.

Over and out, more out than over, see ya.

Matthias