Hostility Towards TerragenHostility Towards Terragen10 years ago in Editorial More Like This
Hostility towards the program terragen has always been present, and most likely, always will be. But let's get down to brass tacks. What is terragen? It's a 3d scenery generator. Right. There's no real Modelling process involved per se, and it looks and works completely different (to all means and purposes of the majority) to a 3d modelling application such as 3d studio max or Maya. It is comprised of a series of mostly numerical controls, and a few random generators based on numerical/slider inputs.
...this means, it's an easy program, and requires little or no effort to pull off good results.
Here's my favourite word of this article. WRONG.
The program is as deep as you want it to be, just as many other art orientated programs are. The quality of the results produced from it are proportional to the artists skill in using it. Just becau
Moonlight StoryMoonlight Story10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
By Alyssa Granger
In the moonlight where the fairies dance
Where you go when there is not a chance
Through the silver trees
And the gem stone grasses
Where the moon shines full
And no evil passes
Her silver hair and Sapphire blue eyes
They startle you with their size
Hurry now run fast as the fawn
You must get there before the dawn or…
She will be gone
© Alyssa Granger 2004
"Angst""Angst"10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
sick of tears
sick of fears
while the demon jeers
sliced with shears
stuck with spears
while the devil lears
the fire sears
the reaper rears
as the end nears
I need AvocadosI need Avocados9 years ago in Erotic More Like This
Today, Princess Diana Died.
I am crying, but not because of this. The tv is on and that's all they talk about, and when they announce it I am cutting up an avocado and mom screams, "Why? Why?! oh my god! Why?" and I slice my finger to the bone and I flinch. The blood pools around my white skin, so dark and red that it seems surreal.
I bandage it up and walk over to where my mom is on her knees by the cat, crying and holding her face with her fleshy hands. My mother loves Princess Diana, she always has. Not really because of any good reason other than that she always wished she were her. I want to smile and tell her I bet she didn't wish that now, huh, but I am afraid of her answer.
I ask if she wants anything. Tea, toast, the avocado I sliced. I help her sit down and tell her I cut my finger. She isn't listening. I tell her I had two twin babies last year, that I'm really an alien from mars, that her boyfriend ran away with the circus. Her brown eyes are glued to the screen.
I turn i
soulsoul9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and I found your soul
(a sheet of paper)
(with my name on it
Love-ClumsyLove-Clumsy9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
How do I
put this into words?
I toss at night
My mouth open
like a goldfish
i am awkward
in my craving
I am love-clumsy. I
& I am breathless
in wanting you
with your melting
of your mouth.
The Open SkyThe Open Sky11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The Open Sky
You ripple, you oscillate; you wave,
And crash into my body only to be expelled through my heart like bats fleeing from a cave.
You hold on tight, you give; and you take away,
Amidst the covert transition from night to day.
You are so beautiful that looking at you consumes my mind
with anxiety and strange relief,
The butterflies inside my brain perch quietly only when I am not looking at you in disbelief.
Sometimes I look upon you and wonder if heaven is on Earth; you are my window into the vast unknown,
Only you can bring me solace when you are overcast and you are a daily reminder that I am not alone.
You are the sky, you are the celestial getaway for the mind; you are the center of my life,
You are the moody, whimsical husband and I am the devoted, loving wife.
Because of you the world is alive; every afternoon I worship the color of your skin,
Dark blue above me and deep, deep orange and pink on the horizon.
The sun and the clouds come to together to pay homage and ref
For once, I am not AliceFor once, I am not Alice9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She is more like a swan
than a human being,
powder white, skin soft
& hair like feathers, long
graceful neck, her lips
always pressed together
holding secrets inside her mouth
And she's always asking me
to dance, tango, kitten?
her voice is like a purr,
a slight whisper, I shiver,
i look away. I do not know
how to tango, I do not
know how to move her naked
hips like she does, she
glides across the floor
as if it is water, she presses
herself against me and parts my lips,
time to sleep, time for a lullaby,
lull-a-bye. her voice is
like a song, she wants to lead me to
She is a swan siren,
She wants me to drown.
PostpartumPostpartum9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Heartache has nothing to do with the heart. It crouches in the
center of the chest. You don't fall out of love. A switch is thrown.
The light fades.
You wait at the end of the fireworks show. Will there be another
You've thought, This is it, before. You try to make it come back,
make it hurt the way it used to, try to bring it into focus, feel the
heft of it. Were you ever really in love at all?
A dampened orgasm. A stifled sneeze.
You replay things in the cinema of your mind and search through
your love notes.
Human babies die if you don't hold them.
Six Gay Men and a ...Six Gay Men and a ...8 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
Six Gay Men and the Great Horned Owl Meet One Day in
Spokane for the Annual Optometrist Convention and Find God
I was wondering: Is the compulsion to find patterns in life, and to find meaning in all patterns, a genuine search for truth—God, if you will—or is it the dog and pony show result similar to Coco's valiant efforts at language acquisition?
Holding up three cards with a banana, tunnel and an explosion, respectively: "I'm horny."
White-coated scientists scribbling notes on metal clipboards: "We're afreud she doesn't communicate sentiently."
Along with searching for patterns, and their inherent meanings, comes a compulsion to create lists. Lists of things to do, lists of things done, lists of people I'd like to do and list of people I've done. Interspersed here and there are the occasional New Year's Resolution lists, the grocery lists, and lists of lists I need to make.
regurgitateregurgitate10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
that would shed
a semblance of piety
'ore my misery-
life calloused name
all that remains
when you disappear.
God help me find
syllables to equate
the life and beauty
my lies negate-
words so empty
they never sooth
they only fuck
again and again-
you say: no.
and my mouth won't shut
deluging santa clause
trickling sick ribboned gifts-
'cause all you wanted
remains locked away
behind off-colored locks
a quick fix.
a degrading toy.
a soul's stain
you occasionally employ;
when alone and needy:
80 proof candy.
but this need remains
i stand like a school boy
sign above the head:
empty shackled claws
that once touched
your skin and hands-
hands you used
to swallow those pills
and lie on that porch
wrapped in that blanket
while the rain dripped
'cross your dead skin.
i thought i heard your voice
when i awoke at morning.
but you never woke up.
you just lay there
Not The World I Dreamed OfNot The World I Dreamed Of9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I remember when I was young;
I shone like the sun.
I lived in my little world of fantasies
Where everything was possible;
Nothing was out of reach.
What happened to my world of fragile things?
To everything that I once knew?
To the perfect world I created when I was a kid?
Where did it all go?
Perhaps I was wrong…
Life is not as precious as I once imagined.
It's harsh and cruel.
You have to be careful in this chaotic world or
People will hurt you for no reason at all;
Some might even try to
Manipulate you like a chess piece.
This is not the world I pictured when I was young.
Where is the peace?
Where is the love?
Where is the honesty and our glory?
Where is the truth and real beauty?
No! This is not the universe I anticipated
…This is not the world I dreamed of.
The Broly Videl RomanceDisclaimer: Don't own dragonballz, Broly or Videl. The rights to this belong to Akira Toriyama ( Did I spell that right?)The Broly Videl Romance9 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Chapter: 1 Monstrous Savior
" Ahahahah!" Broly laughed as his enimes tried desperatly to hold back his assault. His hand shook holding the massive orb in place as the blue energy waves from Kakarot and his spawn tried to push it back. " KAKAROT!! PUHAHAHA!!!" He laughed as he fired another blast of energy down on the giant orb, the planet shook as the blast collided cracking apart the ground beneath them as the ball was sent back twoards the planet.
" Dig deep both of you! Don't let Broly destroy the earth!" He heard Kakarot say as his energy blast was pushed back yet again. Broly laughed as his hand glowed, the green orb ready to end this fight once and for all, Kakarot would die! The blast glowed as his barrier shrunk creating the blast which fired from his hand. It spiraled outwards just as another golden blast came from out in the sky. I
AfterlifeAfterlife10 years ago in Scripts & Screenplays More Like This
A desert road.
A body lies on the road. SAM is sitting on it. It is his corpse. He gets up. Looks at the body, and looks at himself. He feels himself for fat. He goes stage LEFT. As he reaches the end, he stops. He then goes stage RIGHT. He stops. He looks out toward the audience. He goes upstage. He goes downstage. Finally, he glumly takes a seat on his body again and sighs heavily with his chin in both hands, elbows on his knees. He stares at the ground and takes no notice of his surroundings.
Enter CHARON, stage RIGHT. He is wearing simple brown robes and a walking staff. Middle-aged and balding. He drags his feet, hunched over and head down, like someone who has been on his feet for a long time. Noticing SAM, he straightens himself. He takes a scrol
dragdrag10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Of anathematized eggheads, dead poets, uprooted saddle-tramps -
an eclectic shangri-la that impales itself upon her sensibilities
like a beached whale on her shore
And this cold, small man-
call him Animus Annihilated-
"You wanna see Heaven baby?, Here's your chance." -
An open invitation to cool her heels in
the shadow of his soul.
Hoodwinked by her own loathsome ideal
she ogles the out-side,
staring through the cigarette that drips from her mouth,
into her love's eye
The Importance of Being FrankThe Importance of Being Frank10 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The Importance Of Being Frank
At the end of this story, a Frenchman will be eaten by African driver ants.
* * *
Silvie closed the stall door behind her; she closed it timidly, with an empty expression on her face. Her hand shook. She paused for a moment, her mouth half open, her lip curled upward, and a frown on her forehead.
Then she walked over to the wash basins.
A fly buzzed between her and the mirror. She turned on the faucet, filled her cupped hands with water, and splashed it on her face. She looked at the stall's reflection in the mirror, closed her eyes, and slapped herself.
Let us slow down to take in the sights. At the exact moment Silvie's hand hits her cheek, everyth
Bravery and the Sleepy HeartBravery and the Sleepy Heart10 years ago in Children and Teen More Like This
Long, long, ago, when wizards and dragons ate ice cream sundaes for breakfast, there was a little boy with freckles sprinkled across his nose like confetti. His eyes matched the colour of the sky on a sunny day and his hair blended in with stars at night. The little boy's name was Bravery because he had the most courage out of all the children in the world. His parents were very proud of him and told him that he would be able to get his own pet dragon very soon. Bravery was going to name it Mister Monster.
One morning Bravery woke up and felt a little bit sick. His mom cooked him his favourite soup, Chocolate Fudge Noodle, but it didn't make Bravery feel any better. It wasn't his tummy that was sick, it was his heart.
"I think my heart is broken," Bravery told his mom when he had finished his bowl of soup.
"Hearts can't break, Bravery," his mom told him with a smile, "They can get sick, but they don't break."
"Then I think my heart is sick," Bravery said frowning.
. my confession .. my confession .10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Every single evening,
when twilight deciedes to take over the bright sky once again,
I take my thoughts for a walk.
Every single evening,
when the daylight gives in,
I make my confession to the only ones who are always there to listen.
This is it.
This is my confession, my precious voiceless confidants.
Every single evening they fly away,
carrying another fugutive thought, another part of me.
Setting me free.
The Big Bad Wolf The Big Bad Wolf walked into the Neverland Bar, looking out of place in the smoky, grimy room. The bar instantly fell silent as little children, goblins, and assorted woodland creatures scampered out of his way, oblivious to the fact that they were only making his bad mood worse and thinking only to get away from him. He didn't care how scared they were-it was tea time and he needed a drink. He sniffed and brushed a speck of dust from his spotless white sleeve. Motioning to the barman, he took a seat at the back of the room, near a pretty girl with flaming red hair. He took off his hat and flicked his ears, his tail winding out of the way as he sat down. A nervous barmaid brought him a drink, which he accepted gratefully. After he'd gotten half the bottle down, he began to feel better. He'd had a rough day, and all he wanted a chance to relax and be left alone.The Big Bad Wolf9 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
The woodsmen were getting braver, pushing
DisturbedDisturbed10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Thoughts of everything occurs.
Everything swirls in my head.
I'm happy one moment, and sad the next.
The decisions I make are never right.
The choices I take confuse me inside.
Everything bites me in the ass once again.
And I'm left alone with more of this pain.
Every moment, I feel the need to break down.
You won't find a smile, only a frown.
I can't smile when I feel like this.
My life, is full of tortured secrets.
I need to let go, of all the pain that's buried.
Everything that remains deep inside of me.
I seem to be holding onto them though.
I can't seem to just let these things go.
I guess I'm addicted to hurting me,
Whether it's physically, or emotionally.
I always hurt myself with the paths I take.
It's worse when others are dragged into this mistake.
I'm lost within, this I admit.
Choices I make, I seem to regret.
I always end up getting hurt.
Thoughts will ponder in my head forever.
II. Extreme-Planet-MakeoverII. Extreme-Planet-Makeover10 years ago in Science Fiction More Like This
When the Carrotians won their last great galactic war with the Primari from the star system Magenta, an endurance battle that lasted for nearly nine hundred years of shooting at tacky primary coloured Duplo-like spaceships with very annoying Colour Reflector Shields and deadly Confetti Scatter Beams, their empire finally flourished with a whopping thirty two star systems, twenty four inhabited planets, forty five inhabited moons, a few dozen interesting asteroids and one rather nifty black hole.
However, the Carrotians got rather bored with the whole conquering business pretty quickly as the job of supreme interstellar tyrant turned out to involve far more paperwork and systematic genocide as they ever had imagined. Most galactic races would die just to get into the position of ultimate power the Carrotians were in, and many did. But that's not the point. As for we must not forget that the Carrotians always remain in the first place a race of deeply creative people, of artists. The who
Werewolves of LondonWerewolves of London9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Somewhere right in the middle of nowhere
It stood tall upon vibrant grass
Never had so many people gathered
To worship in a portable blow-up church
The altar boy read the opening credits
While monkeys sold popcorn to the kids
The jugglers behind the choir took a deep breath
When the first chord was struck with a mighty howl
And so it began…
The choir bellowed
I saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand
While parishioners danced upon their sins
Children threw red paint at each other
While the M of the C entered through the ceiling
The altar boy introduced him through a flurry of lights
Ladies and Gentleman, I give to you, the one, the only
Jinga Linga Ling
…ah ooh, werewolves of London…
He soared like a bird above the giddy crowd
His big hair and shiny teeth sparkled of gold
The men wanted to be him and the women wanted his teeth
The kids could only laugh as they threw red popcorn at him
The juggling started as he landed on the altar
They juggled watches, brace
So Sorry....NowSo Sorry....Now10 years ago in General More Like This
See her tears…beg her forgiveness..she screams..she cries…she weeps…the person you were kissing…wasn't her….yet, she just kept it to herself…she wanted your happiness….and more so…your loyalty….god it hurt her….she pushes away from you….sobbing her broken heart….see the pieces….fall from her eyes…the blood red broken pieces of her heart….she would have died for you….she collapses, run to her….and hear her screams….NOOOO….HOW COULD YOU DO THIS…see her tears….STAY AWAY FROM MEEEE….hear her soul shatter…see the devil steal out of the room….laughing…she invested everything in you…she didn't want to know….her heart can't take this anymore…see her world crumble….as she begs…to know why…she stands…tears running down her cheeks….she limps her way to the kitchen….she pulls out the knife…the dagger…you bought her….and she brings it to her wrists….and watches your expression…..as she digs the knife…into her uncovered flesh…not at all…wincing at the pain….she didn't need to know the truth…couldn't