The Seeds of Change: Chapter 3The four were mesmerized by it's outer core...these seeds...were glowing. What did these possibly have to do with anything, were these kids just stoned? Or were they really, as they say, from 2013?
"...Holy hell...where do you get these things?!"
"They were handed to us before we arrived. But we can only use them scarcely." Said Jack.
"What do you mean-"
A loud booming on the door interrupted Jonsey's questioning.
"I'll get it." Groans Robert as Peter Grant opens it and pulls him by his collar.
"YOU GUYS ARE FOUR FUCKING HOURS LATE! WE'RE ONSTAGE IN AN HOUR!"
The band exchanges a split second glance as they scurry to load their instruments. Cursing rapidly under their breaths, they bolt out the door.
"What's going on-" Yari asks Jimmy Page, who is the last one out the door.
"COME ON! WE DON'T HAVE ALL DAY! LET'S GO, LET'S GO!" The band motions for the teens to follow, and they climb behind them in the limo that waited outside the hotel.
"These seats...they recline!" T
The Girl Next Door: Chapter 10She almost rolled off the roof getting up, looking for Robert next to her but he wasn't there. Dianne sighed, she would have to go down that ladder alone. She swung her legs inside the window still searching for him. Once she searched the rooms to find no one there, she looked around the hotel, then the city streets. It was useless.More Like This
"ROBERT!" She yelled. Then she remembered his nickname everyone called him.
"PERCY!" It was then he came out of a crowd with Jimmy next to him. People screaming as they recognized them, they recognized her too.
"HEY! You're that girl that played last night!"
"Yeah...I guess I am."
"You his girl?" Someone in the crowd teased, she blushed thinking about it. Robert swung his arm over her shoulder as they made their way through the swarms of people, her seeing the faces of her classmates and so called "friends" from before now smile and wave at her, wanting to get together with her, talk to her. She was a celebrity in their eyes now, as much as she didn't feel
Sweet November Rain.I'm just sitting here, listening to the heavy rain beat on the window, the only thing that breaks the silence of being alone. I sit and try to think of the words to write, the things to say. Why is it in these crucial times, before a test, before I do anything of importance that my mind which is constantly going during every hour of the night and day suddenly goes blank? It makes no sense and it pisses me off. Sometimes it's better not to think, to have the thoughts suddenly come to you without dealing with the stress that it takes to make them come...if that makes any fucking sense. This has been a repeating night, the fifth straight night of rain and bitter frost.More Like This
But this rain...I still love it. The smell of rain, it's freezing touch that instantly brings you into this cold, hardened world. It defines Oregon, and no matter how many times I moved it has always been around here. In the ever green, hippie state which cherishes it's forests and wildlife. We're the big recycling freaks o
The Girl Next Door: Chapter 11It took quite some time before Robert finally found the rest of them at a nearby pub.More Like This
"ROBEEERRRTT!" Bonzo slurred as he downed another shot. Jimmy and Jonesy laughing uncontrollably as they were the only regulars of the bar, despite only being around the area for a week.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" He shrieked when he realized how late they really were.
"What do you think?! You fucking stranded us at the beach last night, where else were we supposed to go?! We had to get a bite before..."
"WE WERE SUPPOSED TO MEET PETER TWO HOURS AGO!" They all froze in place, their faces a sickening pale.
"SHIT!" They chorused, bolting out the door and swerving trough traffic to get to the studio. They swung open the door and fall backwards as they run into Peter Grant.
"You're late." He mutters as they get themselves together and head into the studio.
She wandered their room curiously, looking through awards, posters, magazines,
These Words Aren't PrettyThese Words Aren't Pretty:More Like This
My verses are ugly and I admit to the fact
I can't use pretty language when I'm working with rap
Because the things that I write, are just the things that I feel
I ain't an Edgar Allan Poe or a Danielle Steel
And I'll be honest with you, I've got an envy inside
Because some poets got a flow that's as smooth as the tide
I read some stuff that they write, it's just so dope I ignite
Burning shame and my anger at the beautiful sight
And like birds of a feather, they're flocking together
These poets are the Gods and I'm nailed by the weather
But as the rain pours down, lightning resound;
I try to write pretty words but my lips remain bound
So deeply silenced by fear - the darkness I hear,
Afraid to be unloved by the ones I hold dear
I've hit the limit of time; my lyrical crime
These words that I've lived are just turning to grime.
So I wish I had their talent; just a sliver of that
If their skill was a mountain then I've broken my back
It's like t
OverActive ImaginationLike verbal synesthesia,More Like This
in my head.
bang bang bang
and all I think are flashes.
Computer fans are white noise
and clicking keys a melody.
I sleep on piles of books
and tell myself bedtime stories
that never, ever end.
It's the same one, every night.
I edit, even in my head.
One color brings four hundred synonyms to mind
and the feeling of fabric is like a burst of light.
Looking at a photograph is often over whelming,
and all I want to do is know what
they were thinking,
not what I am.
It's a curse and a blessing,
on a wing and a prayer,
and a hundred other cliches
that will never go away.
Here's to the over active imagination
that won't stop finding the meaning in everything.
I am not a stereotypeSlide the blade across your wrist.More Like This
"Doesn't it hurt?"
I can't feel anything.
Punch your own stomach.
Does it hurt yet?
"Why do you do that?"
The pain makes me feel alive.
"I don't know."
"What's wrong with you?"
I'm dead inside.
I'm just depressed.
Stare at your arms.
"What are you doing?"
I just have low self esteem.
I'm just human.
I'm just me.
Generation GapIn a fragile world accessed through fingertips,More Like This
I have it all.
The opportunities that come with glaring at a screen,
connections with strangers through an alternate universe.
A message sent in an instant
what would of taken months through other, dated means.
Oh, what you could have with such things;
To entertain, distract, dwindle precious time.
A slide of a finger, a click of a button.
These luxuries, as you call them,
Accessible any shift of day.
Valued keepsakes and possessions now
You could nevermore dream up;
And you're jealous, a generation delayed.
Not a manner to garner outside news
exempt of flipping through files;
While a typed solitary word brings us all we've come to know.
As I despise my own time,
What you would do
To steer into the future
And relive childhood in the era you belong.
In a lucid world fresh with color and life,
You had it all.
Controversy spurred amongst this modern heavy sound
Driving the masses off their feet, flocking ample stadiums.
An Ode To A SmileOf late there has been something missingMore Like This
From my visage, my mien and my face
My adult self not able to regain
What it is my childhood has misplaced
The absence has become more apparent
And is there for the assemblage to see
But as it did not happen over night
The origin remains a mystery
Could it be the colour and the tone
Of my sallow skin pigmentation
From too many hours indoors alone
And within my imagination
Perhaps I should pierce my ear and nose
Rebel against a faceless system
Or indeed tattoo text upon my neck
Quoting some so-called ancient wisdom
I could iron out all of the creases
Nip and tuck on my pronounced cheek bones
But this would mean erasing my journey
So I might never find my way home
And none of these things in any case
Will ever change the person that I am
Or influence the mood of the others
Like a timely facial expression can
From limbic system to nerve and muscle
To the countenance conveyed on my face
So complex that even Mona Lisa’s mood
Took over four year
The Seeds of Change: Chapter 4There was another light that gleamed bright in this future; those coming from smartphones and radiant screens. Their whole world was just at a touch of a button, a slide of a finger. Every little movement astonished the band; used to turning knobs to change fuzzy channels and stations.More Like This
Wonder was sparked in the unknown; the remodeled cars that sped along the highway; the advertisements on HD plasma TVs in the store windows. Teenagers passing by; girls with what seemed more like a strip of cloth than a mini skirt with high, leather boots; boys, not bothering to lock hands, with faded jeans sagged down shy past their waistline, their boxers were visible to the public!
"How can a man be damn proud of that?!" Thought the band; watching an older boy, baseball cap turned sideways, push the girl aggressively around the parking lot, she just laughed it off.
"Does everyone dress like that?!" Asked John Paul Jones, appalled by what seemed to be clones of the same captives.
Led Zeppelin plzsHey! I want to gather here all Led Zeppelin plzs! Help me if you know more :iconladanceplz:More Like This
ProblemI've been watching Celebration Day every day for 2 weeks I thinkMore Like This
and I'm like this every time. I think I have a problem xD
Robert is amazing... so many emotions, so cute, so funny :333
Jonesy makes me drop my jaw on the desk with his keyboard playing in No Quarter... I'm in heaven.
Old Jimmy makes me horny... I can't help this His guitar faces... I can't explain this. He's still so attractive, I know, he's 69, don't ask me I don't understand it either.
And Jason :') I love him He loves his father and he's just like him, when I see how similar faces to Bonzo he makes I can't... :')
I can't stop watching this. I think I need to go to doctor because I try to listen to the bands I listened before Led Zeppelin but I CAN'T.
I try but only Zeppelin makes me happy
bucket bucket bucket bucket bucket bucket bucketWhat's that word for someone? When they're too pure to be a sinner, but too malignant to be a saint? When they're trapped in this sort of identity limbo when all the rain around you is either plummeting toward earth or ascending as a mist into the rolling atmosphere?More Like This
All my life I've sat on this fence, watching the waves crash this way and that, and the boards beneath me are starting to erode away, and I feel like I'm going to have to make the choice soon, one way or another. The wall is getting shaky, and soon I'll have to jump.
In theory, I could pick the shore. Seems nice. Warm... but really, it's structure is no more secure than the ocean... it has the illusion of that protection, but if anything were to befall it... even the slightest douse of rainfall... it would slide and collapse every which way. In the end, you're still not really getting what you're paying for. You're like everyone else. Clinging to an unstable structure, keeping to routine, and praying it doesn't rain. I had
Comfortably Numb Can't bring myself to it all anymore. Maybe I'll just look at the pictures in Holocaust books. Come on, right? Anything to make life feel a little more exciting.More Like This
And I seem to be doing more and more to get it that way. But it doesn't usually help. Just the same old, same old. Try to get up, try to get through school and all the people and the sickening drivel of conformed 'school life.' "Hey, lets talk about boys", or, "oh god, I don't look good today." Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one who can see past it all. Sometimes when I'm walking home, singing under my breath, I wonder why I don't sing louder. And sometimes when people give me a look: I do. I always thought it would be so great to get past appearances and social status and what people think. And now that I finally am, it's like there's nothing to live for. Is that it? Is the only thing to live for just reliant on other people? Or is that what I'm missing? Is it people that other people need? Is there a switch s
SaltA story of people who didn't meet.More Like This
that woman lived in a house
that boy lived in the house
with a salt shaker on the right
with a good day and so the night
and the pepper one on the left
and the light always he left
afraid if they're on their place
afraid of the rats from that rat race
always at the same time, twice a day
his dad was talking about yesterday
she measured two grams and nothing more
he rode bike to school but his mind was sore
all of a sudden dropped the shaker
all of a sudden went back to the Maker
all over the floor her salt has scattered
all over the road his freckles lie
the guilt of her fingers, it slipped out of them
the gulit of the driver, because he's a man
she poured water onto the mess
it didn't make mother's pain much more
it melted away and they say
it became a cloud on the sky
that salty water went down the drain
when it sailed out of her eye
An Animal Crossing Story: Chapter 8Though I haven't kept track of the dates; the animals here sure do. There's a grand clock by the town hall that gongs at every hour. The date is inscribed at the side of every letter I receive from neighbors that have passed on or, "moved away." Corny events are tracked and celebrated by neighbors, just to keep their deluded minds off of ongoing tragedies that go right under their noses. As days drag more and food becomes more scarce; there are just a few trees left in my town with ripe oranges. If it weren't for Horatio's share, I'd be much worse off than I am.More Like This
Even with these reminders; it's not until the rude awakening of a pounding at my door that I'm reminded today is August 10th. My sixteenth birthday, and the day I'm supposed to return home from "camp" according to the brochure.
Turns out it's a squirrel who has asked me what my birthday was before, has made a cake for me. Another antelope I pass by gives a green balloon. Frobert, the frog I sold my shirt to, even sends
An Animal Crossing Story: Chapter 7Passing days here are more like weeks; and every second seems more like a lifetime. Fruit are growing low in both our towns, and with that so is our chance for survival; as besides raw and overcooked fish, it is our only source of food that isn't flesh.More Like This
"Do you think they'll really get these?" Asks Horatio, as we scurry out to send more letters. We have sent out copies of the same note on similar templates, warning them about cannibal Nook and requesting whoever shall receive the letter to send back their code. No responses so far, but we can only hope others have received the message and are together plotting rebellion.
"Someone out there should." The only concern, and what has feared us most, was if someone with a position of power were to see it, track down our codes, and execute us on the spot. They were planning to anyhow, and as it's been two weeks since I've been dropped off at "camp," it's just a matter of time before they decide I'm no value to them besides making a good garni
An Animal Crossing Story: Chapter 6This wasn't happening. I have gone into madness, it's my only explanation...More Like This
"GET UP AGAINST THE WALL!" Resetti ordered the crowded children, an axe in his hand. The children scurried to follow orders, I make a run for it.
"YOU! LASSIE! COME HERE!" Resetti orders Don to keep watch of the terrified children, and charges after me. Once the slowest runner out of my class; I am assisted by an adrenaline rush when I see a light at the end of Resetti's damned tunnel. There was a way to reality! He's right fucking behind me...
"CANDACE!" He knows my name. He keeps record of every trapped soul here! I see more and openings; the closest one had a gate. I was going back to the hell I started from, but there's not much of a choice with my life at stake.
I'm almost there! Just pull the door-it won't budge!
"NO!" Resetti had me by one arm, I'm pulling the door with the other. I lunge towards my temporary freedom, and he briskly turns me around. Once a man, he sure had the strength