Character Development: Derek

What he throws away:

lyrics on crumpled paper, thoughts, flyers for events he’s gone to already, abstract concepts, his own internal crazy things that weren’t quite up to par, lists.

A paragraph(ish) hopefully in Derek’s voice:

“…After the movie, we went to this place called Joe’s pizza.  Just a couple other places after that.  It was great to see him.  You really should write something.  Besides, all my work stinks anyway.  Ha.

Another few sentences:  (really in Derek’s voice this time)

“Work stinks anyway.  Since you’re free, why don’t ya come over?  I’d tell you all ’bout that trip to Six Flags if you want.”


French Révolution: Poetry

(Henry Singleton) Storming of the Bastille

Carpe diem!  Today, we strike!

Cheers fill the streets so violently

as a smile fills my bloodstained face.


Waving the flag around

rush through the air as we

storm the tower

and reclaim what is ours.

Peace! Finality! Bread!

Storm the tower,

no wound too strong,

keep fighting!


Fight for your freedom,


Dying around me,

bodies fill the streets and blood rushes through the



Freed from poverty and famine!

Storm the Bastille,

and start to rid us of that bane that is

the royalty!


those three estates!

And let the blood that flows in the gutter

be no longer of the sans-culottes,

but of those who have wronged and

controlled us for too long!








Hello peoplez!

Just wanted to say happy Thanksgiving with this terribly drawn turkey.  :D










NaBloPoMo : Day 7


Hey again, guys. :)  I was thinking about it, and I don’t think you know my favorite colors.  (No…  I’m not out of ideas…  This counts as an idea…)


lol Anywho, if you did indeed want to know, they’re dark purple and lime green.  Why these two?  Because they are opposites, and work so well together, in part.  Because together they send a message.  It’s not “Look at me!!” like red & vermillion, Or “Chillax, dude” like light purple-blue and forest green.  If colors could speak, I think together these ones would say “Hey.  I’m amazing.  You are, too.”

That’s just in my opinion though. lol










If purple and green could sing…

Autumn Winds

A girl sat alone on the bench outside of her house.  Falling leaves littered the ground around her all different colours.  She was thinking of the boy.  The boy.  The boy.  Her boy, she supposed.  Oh what a beautiful day, she thought as the crisp winds ruffled through her hair.  Auburn silk.  She almost laughed aloud.  No, her hair wasn’t that pretty.  She didn’t care, though.  She walked barefoot from the bench, feet crunching in the leaves.  I wish he was here.  She sighed, and wrapped her scarf tighter around herself.  Continuing walking, she looked up.  The sky was grey like something she’d never seen.  The clouds rolled through, pushed along by the north wind.  She felt a tap on her shoulder.  She looked up, surprised.  No one was there.  How odd, she thought.  She walked quicker now, not wanting to waste time.  Then she felt a whisper ever so slight from the trunk of the fallen tree.  That great oak had stood for nearly a century, then in early spring years ago, a great gust of wind had torn it up at the roots.  Too big for anyone to move it, and too remote in the woods for anyone to care, the tree lay there, slowly intermingling with the earth.  She looked inside of the trunk.  A light was springing from the very center inside of it.  She was shocked, naturally, but also unnervingly curious as to it’s source.  She took off her scarf and jacket, leaving her in simply denim summer shorts and a deep blue sweater.  She laid her scarf and jacket on the ground carefully avoiding mud, and crawled inside the trunk.  She spied numerous spiders spinning webs as blankets for the coming winter.  Even a small creature sleeping.  She wiggled past so cautiously as to not disturb anything.  When she was almost to the middle of the hollow log, the ground started to shake.  Something pulled her out of the fallen tree.  The ground stopped shaking.  The forest was still again.  She brushed decomposing insects off, and tried again to reach the elusive unexplained light source.  she was almost there again, when this time she heard rushing water.  The trunk of the tree was going to flood.  She had to get out.  She was stuck on something.  She couldn’t move.  A wave of water came through the great tree, filling her mouth, eyes, and nose.  She was pushed out along with the creek water.  All wet, she looked down at her feet.  They were cold now, a bluish shade.  She could still feel them though, and when she bent down again to look in the hollow log, the water was gone and the light was still there.  Everything was dry inside the fallen oak.  She looked down, surprised.  Even she was dry, once she stepped inside the trunk.  She couldn’t stand up, so she crawled.  Again, she was almost to the glowing spot.  A wind reminiscent of the one that had knocked the tree down thundered through the hollow wood.  She tried to hold on and almost succeeded, but alas, the wind blew the girl right out.  Ok, she thought.  How many times can I not succeed?  She, again, bent down and crawled through.  Quicker this time, then the others.  She could see the light source.  It was coming from the ground underneath the log.  The tree grew warmer as she got closer to the light.  She slowed down.  Everything seemed to hold it’s breath.  Then the light exploded outwards.  She shot out of the fallen tree’s trunk, back into the cold autumn air outside.  She hit her head against a standing tree.  Everything faded away.  She woke up, hours later, her scarf and jacket back on.  She was covered in leaves.  It was dark.  She stood up, holding her aching skull with both hands.  The temperature had dropped at least twenty degrees.  She remembered idly that the weather report had stated that tonight was the first freeze.  She crawled one more time back inside the great fallen oak.  This time she didn’t go far.  She didn’t try to obtain the light source.  She stopped when she was just sheltered from the wind.  Something was definitely off about this tree.  Somehow the fallen tree was growing warmer again.  Her eyes snapped open.  Three raccoons had scampered inside of the log.  The were sleeping around the light.  She smiled.  Almost like a campfire, she thought.  Oh, if  her boy could see this,  he would laugh.  He would even try and take one of them home as a pet.  He wouldn’t be successful in the endeavour, of course, and he would most likely end up with a face full of teeth marks, a trip to the emergency room and numerous rabies and tetanus shots, but the danger of that would far from stop him from trying.  The light was constant, so it wasn’t a fire, but it was warm like one.  She edged closer, trying to stay warm, but at the same time trying not to awaken the critters or disturb the light.  She was reaching forward to warm a hand when suddenly a raccoon’s eye snapped open.  She stopped, and remained motionless.  They watched each other with great interest.  Much to her surprise, the one awakened raccoon sniffed her hand and moved over from the light to let her closer.  For the first time, she truly saw what it was.  She couldn’t believe it!  A tiny floating daisy, perfect as when it first bloomed, encased in a glowing shrine of light.  It gave off warmth like eternal spring.  A tiny, beautiful, bewitching, figure stepped out of the daisy.  Nothing like you see in stories.  Wild, tangled, hair that fell past her hips, pointed, devilish, features, and a voice like thunderstorms and wildfires and a calming ocean and a warm breeze through a woodland.  It spoke to her in a way like a grandmother’s last words and baby’s first breath.  She fell asleep without meaning to, there, inside of the fallen tree, with the creatures and raccoons and smell of sunshine.  The next morning she awoke in bed in what she was wearing the night before.  A text from the boy was on her phone.  When she reached out to grab it from the table beside her bed, something fell out of her hand.  Old, rolled up parchment, upon further inspection.  Inside, in smallest font, this was written:

Think what you will.

We protect what is real.

We give you this gift of knowledge.

Treasure it well.

She shook her head to clear it, and remembered everything.



The End!  Hope you liked my story.  Tell me what you think in the comments below.  :)  Sorry for any grammar mistakes.


~ Mousepaw

2: A Few Bits Of Background Before This Story Continues…

Hi!  It’s me again, back with another chapter.  I hoped you liked the last one.  :)


2 : a few bits of background before this story continues…


Nearing fall, the community was abundantly full of the products of the harvest. A year’s nonstop and incessant care and tending was paying off.  The village was basically beautiful hamlets over carefully tended fields surrounded by Jungle.  Overall, the feeling was wonderfully opulentSave the dreary air about the peoples of this perfect village. What was there to be afraid of or even sad about at a time like this? What could possibly be the matter at all?  Nobody talked about them…  The ravenous, somber, beasts that inhabited the darkest and most inscrutable parts of the myriad of trees stretching out from all sides of the majestic mountains. Those flitting beasts that you didn’t see. That you didn’t hear. That you only felt. At their most benign, they were ostentatious little creatures, who would pinch horrible little pinches, and made objects so displaced that it would be an eccentric waste of time and energy to retrieve them. They took away everything that was not needed. Everything.. Everyone, too. They used everything that was not put to use by they’re surroundings. One might be horrified by such an atrocity, but they were a part of life for the people of the Jungle.


lol,  I was feeling a little morbid when I wrote this.

By the way, the words in bold are spelling words that I’m sneaking into my posts.  :P



The First Chapter To A Story In Which Amazing And Unexpected Things Happen.


Tatiana (As a newborn, crawled out of the jungle. Adopted by the whole community.)


Xavier (About 14)


King Iso (Ruled as long as anybody can remember.)


Saha (Healer.)


Raul (pronounced Ra U l)



1: the first chapter in a story in which amazing and unexpected things happen.


Xavier took the knife boldly in one hand as he mutely cut the first stroke. His thoughts consisted of this: At some point, this will be a fish-looking thing, maybe… This blasted wood is impenetrable! The knife obviously wasn’t cutting. “I have gotten a piece of steel, sharpened it, twice, and fitted it a handle, and for what? I can’t believe I did all that in vain! I mustassert myself over this stupid chunk of wood.” He grumbled to himself. “Whatcha doing?” A voice behind him questioned. Xavier turned to see Tatiana sitting on a tree stump, looking at him utterly un-oppressively.Trying to carve a fish out of an inexplicably hard wood, with an extremely dull knife. You?” He replied. “Watching a boy try to make a piece of a very old oak look something like a fish, while he tries to carve it with the wrong side of a knife that is the wrong shape and metal for the wood.” She cast a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. A sarcastic smile played on his lips. “Ok, fine then. Got something better?” She raised her eyebrows furtively. “Surely you know me, don’t you?” She took a gorgeous blade out of her leather satchel. “Give me that,” She said. The knife slid through the wood, crafting a perfect ridge with hardly any effort. “Geez,” Xavier said, “I’d ask how you knew all that, but I know you wouldn’t tell me.” She laughed, and said, “Don’t be so hard on yourself, I’m an amazing oddity, that’s how I learned.” Then, without warning, Tatiana’s eyes went wide. She screamed. Then, dropping the knife, ran. “Crazy girl.” Xavier said, and went back to his newly evaluated carving. Clouds showed an impending storm, he noted. He finished carving the wood quickly with Tatiana’s knife. Xavier turned to head back.

He saw it, but never heard it. Something not quite human.

Yes, he tried to run.


Thought of his family.


Cries for help.

Cut short.



So… Yeah! :D  I’ll post more of my story later.


~Mousepaw  ;)

One Day Away

Song I’ve been writing for about a week and a half…  Just words, so far.  Spaces for instrumental, but no music yet.

:)  Have fun reading! Oh, and feel free to suggest music or words, if you like.

Lyrics are sort of in a sing-song rap, with the exception of the chorus, which is only sung.

Chorus in bold.

Regular lyrics italicized.



About 15 seconds of instrumental

Maybe it’s best/

What have I expressed?/

A distress/

No finesse/

Just a song…/

Come ON.  What’cha waitin’ on?/


Can’t believe I’m waiting like this/

Can’t believe that I gave a kiss/

Living with myself/

In and of itself/

Left me waiting for my own self-help/


Feelin’ crazy (all the time)/

Bein’ lazy (got no rhyme)/

A bit of guitar playing in the background… Maybe 6 seconds?

In and out of sanity/

All I think is profanity/

What I’m feeling might be wrong/

Can’t stop it/ Yeah, Been like this all ‘long/

Don’t need no R&R/

I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T by far/

But don’t forget the way this lays/

Always  One. Day. Away./

Wonder who we are/

In this mixed up world\

Wonder where we are/

In this cold lifeless road\

In and out of sanity/

All I think is profanity/

What I’m feeling might be wrong/

Can’t stop it/ I’ve Been like this all ‘long/

Don’t need no R&R/

I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T by far/

But I won’t forget the way this lays/

Always  One. Day. Away./

I wish I wish upon that star/

For you to talk to me about this/

Haven’t seen you since forever./

Sometimes feeling listless./

In this whimsical endeavor./

If I saw ya more/

(meet me by those nooks!)/

If you came to see me like you swore/

(the nooks with the books!)/

I could tell you more/

Like how I know you’re an easy one to fall for /

But it doesn’t even matter/

I’ll give you my heart, right up; on a silver platter/

Yeah, a bit gory/

Like my friend Tori?/

Ok, no silver platter.  How about a silver lining?/

No whining/


I hope I’m not too forward for your tastes/

Sorry if that’s so,/

But I’m never changing who I am (my soul)/

You’ve gotta stick to yourself if you wanna be great/

Never change… for anyone… but… YOU./

2 Minutes  16 Seconds  Long.

A bit shorter that usual, but there’s no instruments yet!  So… Yeah.

What did you think? :)


~ Mousepaw



Days pass

Weeks go by




Glassy eyes

Staring down

Quiet,  I hear something


Only a dream




My mind explodes

I see you

Reaching down

Chills go up my arm

A blackest night

Crow’s wings

Sullen grass

Come back!

You dissapear

Into the darkness


Something more?

Something less?

Mort, Morte, Death


I see none

They are back.

You never know


They will come

Always lurking

Watching from behind a staircase

Through a wall

Hidden eyes

Forever sealed

Torn to shreds



They are here

Here, now?



You said –

I said nothing!

You came at your own risk!




I… can’t see


They morph

Forever darkening

Hearts cold and dead!


Corner of your eye

Now, Corner of both eyes

They are close


…how close..


Glass shattering

A wind nearby

Creaking door

Rotten wood giving way






I know.







A blood curdling screech

A death


Not.. Quite.




No one there


Silent Screams

Silent Tears

Never quieted

Never heard

Nameless bones






I see all this.. I cannot speak of what I have witnessed. Those would think myself mad! Those who believe would soon go mad themselves.  I wrap myself tighter in the cocoon of blankets gathered from the empty houses.  I used to be so hungry.  Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to so go now.  Everyone else is gone.




Inspired by Cormac McCarthy’s The Road and  Episode 9 of Vikings (shown on the History Channel).


Thank you.  Any thoughts on what I wrote?  Please post them in the comments below.


~ Mousepaw

American Nationalism in Art

This piece depicts a canyon scene, with a geyser blowing in the distance.  The light is coming in from the upper right-hand corner. There is what appears to be a camp of settlers with their horses near the lower left corner.  A beautiful scene, really.  It gives an impression of when america was new and still being explored.  The pioneers must move forward, and cross the magnificence.

Another art piece that matches our theme is Liberty leading the people, painted in 1830 as a view of the french revolution.

In this painting,  a woman in a dress (Lady Liberty) is leading an army through a battlefield.  She waves a red, white, and blue flag as a call to arms.  Muskets fire, the air fills with smoke from burning buildings(off in the distance, middle right).   Then, the French win the war.


American Nationalism was pretty much the first nationalistic movement.  It is art and music and anything from the years 1776 – 1850.