tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14397773108195254272024-03-20T18:25:44.507-07:00Bob SmeetsWhat, do you think you're an artist or something?Bob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439777310819525427.post-70943456363235535522018-09-18T09:06:00.002-07:002018-09-18T09:06:28.836-07:00Virtues<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Bob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439777310819525427.post-55149396465961933482018-09-18T08:55:00.001-07:002018-09-18T08:55:20.313-07:00Dirty Paws<br />
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We need sin! oh, where is the sin?</div>
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Oh what a surprise,</div>
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The little sheep dog found it</div>
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Sin lives where target</div>
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And the dollar store meet</div>
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In the corner</div>
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Always in the corners</div>
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Wait until the doorway opens sheep dog</div>
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Wait for a moment</div>
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Will yourself to explore</div>
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Then run to the corner sheep dog</div>
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Get yourself a high perch</div>
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Climb on the wall</div>
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wait...</div>
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Then jump on down</div>
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In the muck and the bile</div>
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Get the sin all over your paws</div>
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Stay for a short while</div>
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In the disgusting, black ooze</div>
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Let it mingle on your paws</div>
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Then leave</div>
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That was better</div>
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good dog!</div>
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Bob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439777310819525427.post-17851105848410548032018-09-18T08:47:00.002-07:002018-09-18T08:47:43.561-07:00The Painted Veil<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeeAbtGBWQ7hhS9en28rGdgHi0p7OW_Djx7ZUI3bU3Jhzn_RIRwxcbAx4GXXRnBUBzsYAIIYkEsdfs04RI87sd3vfPSaEcR-8JTymmF6_46WmYenSlFlPrr2baxfX_UYhRcVWyMrD2GLNJ/s1600/tpv-01.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="223" data-original-width="612" height="116" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeeAbtGBWQ7hhS9en28rGdgHi0p7OW_Djx7ZUI3bU3Jhzn_RIRwxcbAx4GXXRnBUBzsYAIIYkEsdfs04RI87sd3vfPSaEcR-8JTymmF6_46WmYenSlFlPrr2baxfX_UYhRcVWyMrD2GLNJ/s320/tpv-01.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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The trees beside the fast freeway,<br />
those fields past the fences,<br />
with a cow here and there<br />
and an electrical grid.<br />
<br />
Fields of grass,<br />
no houses or people,<br />
perhaps a boring freeway sign -<br />
an empty cigarette box.</div>
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Just dirt and sky.</div>
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American,</div>
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Native American,</div>
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African American.</div>
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Is it just a field?</div>
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How many walls hide</div>
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what is truly in those fields?</div>
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The painted veil</div>
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is the nicest ruse.</div>
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Who walked those fields?</div>
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What will happen to those fields?</div>
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And then a store...</div>
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And a college...</div>
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And an airport...</div>
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<br />
Like the sky; emerald blue.<br />
The clouds; milky white.<br />
Rain falling on my windshield<br />
What goes up must come down.</div>
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And oh, how it comes down.</div>
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But oh, nature...</div>
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The Ultimate Painted Veil!</div>
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A field needs rain,</div>
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Like a brush needs water.</div>
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A field needs lightning,</div>
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Like a painter needs a heart.</div>
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A field needs roots,</div>
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like a draftsman needs composition.</div>
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And a field needs a story,</div>
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As it is sometimes walked upon.</div>
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<br />
Can you stay in the sky forever?<br />
Can I come up to see you?<br />
Without my body?<br />
<br />
If the veil is not made of surface,<br />
Nor can looking for it see it,<br />
Nor any scientific terms,<br />
Then perhaps it is painted.</div>
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so enjoy the beauty around you.</div>
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SMEETS</div>
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Bob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439777310819525427.post-72259004800638039462018-08-10T11:29:00.001-07:002018-08-10T11:29:23.054-07:00one man's trashyour best friend<br />
is that who<br />
tells you<br />
what you<br />
don't want<br />
to hear<br />
<br />
it sounds wrong<br />
it sounds ugly<br />
it is trash<br />
<br />
but if you hold on<br />
wait, wait, wait,<br />
give the benifet<br />
of the doubt<br />
and ultimately<br />
the trash gets thrown out<br />
wait again<br />
and pick it back up<br />
out of the trash!Bob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439777310819525427.post-32491953204907408982018-06-29T07:56:00.000-07:002018-06-29T07:56:10.185-07:00Touch Threshold<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Touch is the </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">first sense to emerge in utero</span><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
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Humans use Touch for plenty of things - petting, shaking hands, patting someone on the back, hugging someone</div>
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But when there is too much of the sense of touch people feel pain.</div>
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When you fall hard on the ground the sense of touch hurts you</div>
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Imagine being able to do the strongest of Senses</div>
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Sense of touch could have a pain threshold of 10 tons</div>
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Anything below that just feels soft anything above that hurts</div>
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So you would basically be able to fall from Great Heights and not be hurt</div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Why are we so fragile?</span></div>
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It is because we have a certain pain threshold with respect to touch</div>
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Bob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439777310819525427.post-86534063212315519692018-06-28T07:37:00.002-07:002018-06-28T07:37:22.262-07:00Too many things to beBecause the absolute nature of my soul is to be<br />
Then I am at the mercy of everything<br />
<br />
Where is my veil, my rock, my shelter<br />
That I might find refuge?<br />
<br />
At what point does one object crash<br />
into another objects territory?<br />
<br />
When does being so open,<br />
actually turn into closed?<br />
<br />
When does being so crazy,<br />
actually start making sense?<br />
<br />
When does being in so much pain,<br />
actually produce strength?Bob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439777310819525427.post-4869757738435448252018-06-27T07:25:00.002-07:002018-06-27T07:25:21.747-07:00Slow Burni think we need to stop<br />
or at least pause<br />
yes, a long pause<br />
<br />
sit forever on our porch<br />
just our thoughts<br />
and our feelings<br />
<br />
the world is moving too fast<br />
the end is inevitable<br />
but where is the patients and dignity and peaceBob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439777310819525427.post-47656026515197231132018-06-25T11:18:00.000-07:002018-06-25T12:35:49.508-07:00Cows, Chickens, and PigsAnd the cows, chickens, and pigs of this world shouted...<br />
<br />
"I have to live in this world, do you not think I should know what it's made of? I have to live in this world, do you not think I should know what it's made of? I have to live in this world, do you not think I should know what it's made of? I have to live in this world, do you not think I should know what it's made of? I have to live in this world, do you not think I should know what it's made of?"<br />
<br />
But the overseers said...<br />
<br />
"If cows, chickens, and pigs knew the truth then the world would have to change... but we don't want that.<br />
If cows, chickens, and pigs knew the truth that would mean they would have rights... but we don't want them to have rights.<br />
If cows, chickens, and pigs knew the truth then they would have to live somewhere on there own... but we don't want to give up our land.<br />
If cows, chickens, and pigs knew there was another race whose soul purpose was to eat them then there would be a war... but we will lose that war<br />
If cows, chickens, and pigs knew the truth then our laws and culture would have to also serve them... but we don't want them to."<br />
<br />
And the truth of the matter was...<br />
<br />
Keep the cows, chickens, and pigs of this world stupid. If they don't know any better then all the power to us. Besides they may overtake us one day and we don't want that. They may have some solutions to the many problems of the world and that's dangerous. No keep the cows, chickens, and pigs of this world stupid. And never let on that we know the truth. Keep the game going.Bob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439777310819525427.post-32476359687011123452018-05-30T21:43:00.002-07:002018-05-30T21:43:42.075-07:00Study timegonna pull out the notebook and start studying. some really good stuff in here at first glance. very comprehensive.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://psychology.wikia.com/wiki/Fear" target="_blank">http://psychology.wikia.com/wiki/Fear</a><br />
<br />
<br />Bob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439777310819525427.post-47534957741600962462018-05-30T21:40:00.000-07:002018-05-30T21:40:03.202-07:00What scares us the most?These are the things that scare most of us the most according to James Geer who surveyed some students and polled a bunch of people and all that.<br /><br />Suffocation<br />Failing a test<br />Injury of a loved one<br />Death of a loved one<br />Your own death<br />Being self conscious<br />Not being a success<br />Snakes<br />Nuclear war<br />Speaking in front of a group<br />Looking foolish<br />Terrorist attacks<br />Spiders<br />War<br />Making mistakes<br />The future<br />Being alone<br />Criminal or gang violence<br /><br />cited from this video - Why are things creepy? which is really well done though he's a little too hype for me and he's got that formatted public speaking act going on.<div>
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Bob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439777310819525427.post-86044076214795172752018-05-24T21:03:00.000-07:002018-05-24T21:03:06.735-07:00I just rest...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; text-align: start;">my song when i'm driving home from playing basketball with friends (we play till midnight sometimes). certain songs just click in our hearts and mind</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; text-align: start;">s.</span></div>
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<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/SY3y83_eDec/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/SY3y83_eDec?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border: 0px; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; margin: 0px; max-height: 1e+06px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;"><br style="max-height: 1e+06px; word-wrap: break-word;" /></span>Bob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439777310819525427.post-11993101779735736782018-05-24T04:50:00.000-07:002018-05-24T05:06:25.519-07:00Photo Art<div style="text-align: center;">
Don't go sneaking around in abandoned factories... you may not like what you find.</div>
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<b>Mirelurk</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSvJcm7IbyG548Xxxv1YfWKFqlis0vqcOsPqvnrR5GvrQ0Y_5SpWyXfjEA2ohzFOlbnuIF15d-fFZov5otDGfz_21JleRGQ6KMPE-NUbTPY8zqUNA7BWuPP24nUZPNHbT1-Ie0tKII-lyD/s1600/green-mine-monster-smeets-sml.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="793" data-original-width="1200" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSvJcm7IbyG548Xxxv1YfWKFqlis0vqcOsPqvnrR5GvrQ0Y_5SpWyXfjEA2ohzFOlbnuIF15d-fFZov5otDGfz_21JleRGQ6KMPE-NUbTPY8zqUNA7BWuPP24nUZPNHbT1-Ie0tKII-lyD/s640/green-mine-monster-smeets-sml.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>Bunny</b></div>
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<b>Blood</b></div>
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<br />Bob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439777310819525427.post-62669187819681026902018-05-21T22:18:00.003-07:002018-05-21T22:18:58.526-07:00Virtues Stream of Consciousness<div style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #3c3c3c; font-family: "Open Sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 20px;">
Love is being one with someone else</div>
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Love is a tender kiss, hug, pat on the shoulder</div>
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How do I know love?</div>
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How do I give love?</div>
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Dogs give unconditional love</div>
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Confidence is personal to everybody</div>
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Why do I lack confidence?</div>
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Where can I find confidence?</div>
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Caring makes people feel well</div>
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Kindness makes people feel happy</div>
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Purity – Angels, trees, water, animals</div>
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How do I achieve purity?</div>
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How do I keep my thoughts pure?</div>
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Body? Mind?</div>
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How do I overcome my own defects?</div>
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Wonder</div>
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How do I add wonder to my life?</div>
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Wonder is infectious</div>
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Share the wonder</div>
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How do I make something wonderful?</div>
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Find wonder</div>
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Find unity in friendship</div>
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Unity is seperate but can have a goal or point</div>
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Collective goal</div>
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Unity is one for all and all for one</div>
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Innocence – the games of a child</div>
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Detachment can allow for uniqueness</div>
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Perfectly fine to stand alone</div>
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Detachment allows for perspective</div>
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Joy is like a miracle</div>
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Joy tears</div>
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Don’t be afraid to think Big</div>
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Face your fears</div>
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Pursue your goals</div>
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Ideals should be pure</div>
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Share your ideals</div>
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Confidence</div>
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The unknown</div>
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Knowledge is power</div>
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Share your knowledge</div>
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Power goes away</div>
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Collective knowledge is stronger than individual knowledge</div>
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Be open for knowledge of unsuspecting things</div>
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Knowing is in the heart – information is in the head</div>
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It takes strength to have determination</div>
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Determination requires forward thinking</div>
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Determination without stubborness</div>
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Strength has no labels</div>
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Strength need not be physical</div>
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Patiently waiting</div>
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Patiently not waiting</div>
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Patient for all the right reasons</div>
Bob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439777310819525427.post-82718606564982646682018-05-19T23:19:00.001-07:002018-05-19T23:19:08.090-07:00Return to Twin Peaks<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsF3Auw0VReHfdiKqxtPWLBeTaqaUhRCuOG4Cb3Hqf8-o1PaxuPRhn-FoPfn8zZhZTdLzO503ntPdevZMuFsb8aH8C8beuhhwGfyQcxoAWYEh4QHEcRN_p7O0gMFBDtSrotKqQGDlD7AM8/s1600/51PAEX1EafL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="351" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsF3Auw0VReHfdiKqxtPWLBeTaqaUhRCuOG4Cb3Hqf8-o1PaxuPRhn-FoPfn8zZhZTdLzO503ntPdevZMuFsb8aH8C8beuhhwGfyQcxoAWYEh4QHEcRN_p7O0gMFBDtSrotKqQGDlD7AM8/s320/51PAEX1EafL.jpg" width="224" /></a>So we got showtime just to watch the new Twin Peaks season and then cancelled. I've been wanting to get the series but everywhere I go it's 60 dollars. So one day just browsing amazon I happened to see the price for the new season is half the amount. That's right it's currently 30 dollars for the complete dvd set on amazon. Go buy it while you can guys.<br /><br /><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Twin-Peaks-Limited-Kyle-MacLachlan/dp/B076M95GY6/ref=ice_ac_b_dpb_twi_dvd_2?s=movies-tv&ie=UTF8&qid=1526797094&sr=1-2&keywords=twin+peaks+season+3">https://www.amazon.com/Twin-Peaks-Limited-Kyle-MacLachlan/dp/B076M95GY6/ref=ice_ac_b_dpb_twi_dvd_2?s=movies-tv&ie=UTF8&qid=1526797094&sr=1-2&keywords=twin+peaks+season+3</a></div>
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Bob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439777310819525427.post-73232705516244908652018-05-16T14:20:00.000-07:002018-05-16T14:20:32.211-07:00Fake Authors?I illustrated a graphic novel that my dad wrote. It was a true collaboration as we respected each others talents and acted accordingly. The graphic novel took me roughly ten years to finish, one year to find a publisher, and currently on-going years to market it. I put my heart and soul into it. I also learned a lot about making books. Being in average physical condition and my health relatively normal, and often working 12 hour days sometimes, why did it take me ten years and not one year? Isn't one or two years to finish a book the average duration of the New York Times best selling authors? And why do they all have 30, 40, or even 50 books out? Not to mention all the interviews they do and podcasts and youtube videos?<br />
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The math doesn't add up!<br />
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To name a few authors:<br />
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John Michael Greer has published 42 books. Ok, that's a lot, but not impossible.<br />
Danielle Steel - over 100 books. Ok, I'm pretty sure that's impossible.<br />
Stephen King - over 100 books. Impossible.<br />
James Paterson - on his way to 1,000. Terribly impossible! just check out his bibliography - <a href="https://www.fantasticfiction.com/p/james-patterson/">https://www.fantasticfiction.com/p/james-patterson/</a><br />
but be prepared to scroll for a while<br />
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Do these people not eat, sleep, or go out for supplies like toilet paper? Not to mention they also have hundreds of interviews to do and conventions to go to and youtube videos to be on. Again the math doesn't make sense.<br />
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I know what it takes to make an authentic and legitimate book with meaning and quality. I know how much it takes out of a person. I know I have other things to do in life then work on the book. So how do they do it? Speculations broaden much... from these authors not being human, to secret technology that can create a book with a few keyboard commands (like a plot generator but more powerful) called evolutionary computation, and to some distorted magic or evil spiritual power.<br />
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The mystery is not only reserved for authors; directors, athletes, and artists are all achieving extraordinary feats with little actual work and seemingly spiting time in the process.<br />
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<br />Bob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439777310819525427.post-64726064603202537372018-05-16T10:44:00.000-07:002018-05-16T10:44:14.851-07:00Digital horror locker - 01I thought it would be cool to showcase my collection of my horror movies and other horror related things. I have some more ideas for this so there is more to come.<br />
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<br />Bob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439777310819525427.post-4751439602823523862018-04-18T15:37:00.002-07:002018-04-18T15:39:19.060-07:00books are awesome!<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I came across this bible quote:</span></div>
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“My son, beware of anything beyond these. Of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh. The end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Ecclesiastes 12:12-13</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm sorry but books are awesome! the more the better. poetry, novels, non-fiction, comic books, anything. i read a poul anderson book a long time ago called war of the gods and something happened, i traveled inside the book, while i was just sitting in my room. the words were so juicy, i felt like panting. i was encapsulated and inspired! and to think of all the work that went into it... all the research, imagination, talent, and artistry.</span><br />
<br />Bob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439777310819525427.post-72016562291581722372018-04-16T20:30:00.002-07:002018-04-16T20:43:35.306-07:00What you aim at aims back at you<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The things we do and the things we are subjected to everyday is </div>
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acting on us and molding us. The force of life will be applied to whatever </div>
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you cling to, whatever you identify with, good or bad, chaotic or orderly. </div>
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Which is to say, if you make yourself into a monster, a monster </div>
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will make itself out of you.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV9XUASQNr1umLa7BGzt5OY4f4-o9IfT7qY348Cl7LolIFvnzLLgIliM3xV5GYKTRBNpX71DhxngfEm0W2ftoSqqfT2RKrrqmfuXCVsmeJpsJfqoH2UzjIrWEGXEOECklykUSbiT9PGKQ9/s1600/franky-background-monster-01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="851" data-original-width="1038" height="523" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV9XUASQNr1umLa7BGzt5OY4f4-o9IfT7qY348Cl7LolIFvnzLLgIliM3xV5GYKTRBNpX71DhxngfEm0W2ftoSqqfT2RKrrqmfuXCVsmeJpsJfqoH2UzjIrWEGXEOECklykUSbiT9PGKQ9/s640/franky-background-monster-01.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Bob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439777310819525427.post-10336292494159355322018-02-20T17:17:00.001-08:002018-02-20T17:17:17.564-08:00Who killed George? Part 3.<div style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: helvetica, "helvetica neue", arial;"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: small; text-align: start;"><i>My friends at <a href="http://crackyournuts.proboards.com/" style="color: #4d469c; text-decoration-line: none;">Crack Your Nuts</a> have asked me to join them in a writing challenge where we write an article, short story, essay, or whatever we can think of everyday. Challenge accepted.</i><b><br /></b></span><br style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: start;" /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: small; text-align: start;"><b><br /></b></span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: small; text-align: start;"><b>Writing Challenge Day 42 - post 6.</b></span><br style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: start;" /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: small; text-align: start;">From a <a href="http://writingexercises.co.uk/plotgenerator.php" style="color: #4d469c; text-decoration-line: none;">random plot generator</a> I got this:</span><br style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: start;" /><span style="font-size: 20.8px;"><br /></span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: start;"></span><span id="div1" style="font-size: 20.8px;">A woman in her early forties, who can be quite spontaneous.</span><span style="font-size: 20.8px;"></span><span id="div2" style="font-size: 20.8px;">A man in his late thirties, who can be quite overbearing.</span><span style="font-size: 20.8px;"></span><span id="div3" style="font-size: 20.8px;">The story begins by a river.</span><span style="font-size: 20.8px;"></span><span id="div4" style="font-size: 20.8px;">A relationship breaks up.</span><span style="font-size: 20.8px;"></span><span id="div5" style="font-size: 20.8px;">It's a story about terror.</span><span style="font-size: 20.8px;"></span><span id="div6" style="font-size: 20.8px;">Your character attempts to keep a low profile</span></span></span></span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: helvetica, "helvetica neue", arial; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">Part 3.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: helvetica, "helvetica neue", arial; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">Sunday flipped his notebook open, clicked his pen, and began probing for information, </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: helvetica, "helvetica neue", arial; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">"I'm Detective Sunday, I would like to ask you a few questions, Heather." Sunday was calm and sincere.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: helvetica, "helvetica neue", arial; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">"Yes, please ask anything you want, Detective."</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: helvetica, "helvetica neue", arial; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">"Around what time did you find the victim?</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: helvetica, helvetica neue, arial;"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">"I would say it was 11:30 or so. I was eating lunch at the picnic table over there, when I heard a terrible scream... I went over to see what was going on. That's when I saw the body."</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: helvetica, helvetica neue, arial;"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">"Did you see anybody else when you approached the body?"</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: helvetica, helvetica neue, arial;"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">"No, nobody."</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: helvetica, helvetica neue, arial;"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">"Was the scream male or female?"</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: helvetica, helvetica neue, arial;"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">"It was male. I assume it was coming from the man lying there... the victim. I mean... it sounded so painful."</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: helvetica, helvetica neue, arial;"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">"How about that strange smell? Was it present before you heard the scream?"</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: helvetica, helvetica neue, arial;"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">"No, as soon as I saw the body, the smell was there."</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: helvetica, helvetica neue, arial;"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">"So you didn't see anything out of the ordinary... nothing suspicious?"</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: helvetica, "helvetica neue", arial; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">"No, Detective. I'm sorry I'm not that helpful."</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: helvetica, helvetica neue, arial;"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">"It's OK, Heather."</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: helvetica, "helvetica neue", arial; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">Additionally, Sunday wrote down her contact information and concluded the interview. Sunday flipped his note book closed and frowned. No leads means a lot of waiting. However, the victims past might provide some clues. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: helvetica, "helvetica neue", arial; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">"Detective, wait..." Heather ran back up to Sunday, "There is something else. I forgot to mention it."</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: helvetica, "helvetica neue", arial; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">"Go on."</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: helvetica, "helvetica neue", arial; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">"Just before I heard the scream I felt really weird. And then there was this strange heat all around me. It must have only been a couple seconds, but it was pretty powerful. I hope I don't sound nuts, but I'm very spiritual... and that surge of heat felt unnatural."</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: helvetica, "helvetica neue", arial; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">"Thank you, Heather, It's very helpful. I'll be in touch."</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: helvetica, "helvetica neue", arial; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">Sunday looked worried - strange heat, gross smells, what the hell was going on?</span></div>
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Bob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439777310819525427.post-4051524034478104612018-01-20T19:07:00.001-08:002018-01-20T19:07:17.370-08:00Who killed George? Part 2.<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: medium; text-align: start;"><i>My friends at <a href="http://crackyournuts.proboards.com/" style="color: #4d469c; text-decoration-line: none;">Crack Your Nuts</a> have asked me to join them in a writing challenge where we write an article, short story, essay, or whatever we can think of everyday. Challenge accepted.</i><b><br /></b></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: start;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: medium; text-align: start;"><b><br /></b></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: medium; text-align: start;"><b>Writing Challenge Day 11 - post 5.</b></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: start;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: medium; text-align: start;">From a <a href="http://writingexercises.co.uk/plotgenerator.php" style="color: #4d469c; text-decoration-line: none;">random plot generator</a> I got this:</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: start;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 20.8px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: start;"></span><span id="div1" style="background-color: white; font-size: 20.8px;">A woman in her early forties, who can be quite spontaneous.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 20.8px;"></span><span id="div2" style="background-color: white; font-size: 20.8px;">A man in his late thirties, who can be quite overbearing.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 20.8px;"></span><span id="div3" style="background-color: white; font-size: 20.8px;">The story begins by a river.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 20.8px;"></span><span id="div4" style="background-color: white; font-size: 20.8px;">A relationship breaks up.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 20.8px;"></span><span id="div5" style="background-color: white; font-size: 20.8px;">It's a story about terror.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 20.8px;"></span><span id="div6" style="background-color: white; font-size: 20.8px;">Your character attempts to keep a low profile</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">Part 2.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">Detective Sunday, of the Orlando Police Department, arrived at the front entrance to the park, which was closed off to police only. Nobody was getting in without proper clearance. Sunday parked his car, caught the eye of a police man, flashed </span></span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">his badge, and tried to get more of the story from him. "What do we got?"</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">"One body, mangled beyond belief. Three witnesses so far, but they didn't actually see how the person died - they were playing by the river and found the body."</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">"How wide of an area do we have?"</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">"We put up tape for a good hundred yards from the body, but I suspect we'll find evidence through out the whole park."</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">"OK, thank you... What the hell is that smell?"</span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">"We don't know, it's awful isn't it?"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">Sunday entered the crime scene and was more than taken a back. He has never seen a more gruesome dead body in all his years of police work. The victim's limbs were ripped from the body, the head was decapitated, and the organs were strewn about the area. It can't be ruled out that this was an animal attack. A wild boar could certainly do this. An alligator perhaps. Either way the autopsy will show up any animal traces.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">The first thing that he wanted to investigate was the strange smell that permeated the area. It was extremely unpleasant. Could it be coming from the body? How could the smell of a corpse be sensed all the way to the parking lot and the entrance of the park? It was a sour, vulgar smell. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">Another detective, named Jackson, a veteran officer, was looking at the body. Sunday walked over to him, "What do you think of that smell?</span></span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">"</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">"It's definitely unique. Not coming from the body."</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">"Could be useful to analyze it."</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">"Go for it. Be quick though, it might be gone soon. Jenifer has a kit with her I believe."</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">Detective Sunday walked over to the forensic officer, Jenifer Morgan, and grabbed the kit off her. Police stations have scent kits that can collect smells, primarily used for K-9's to help find missing persons, drugs, or objects. Except Sunday wanted to analyze the smell. Perhaps there was a clue in it's properties that could lead the investigation somewhere.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">Sunday took out a pad from the kit and swabbed a tree, the ground, the body, and a nearby bench, then put the pad in a tube and sealed it. He didn't want to stay any longer than he had to. He would go through the forensic reports later. The whole scene was nauseating. Dead bodies are for the forensic team and larvae. Instead, he wanted to focus on the eye-witnesses. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">Sunday walked back to Jackson, "Who is the first responder?"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">Jackson pointed over to a police man far behind them, near the tape, "That would be Barry Friedman."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">Sunday walked over to him.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">"I was told there's a couple potential eye witnesses?"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">"Yeah, though two of them have left the scene, but were thoroughly questioned. The other, a one Heather Donney, is standing over there, behind the tape."</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">"What do you have on her?"</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">"Not much. She found the body. No real important points."</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">"Hey, you never know, right?</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">"</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;"><br /></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">Sunday walked up to Heather and put his critical thinking cap on.</span><br />
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Bob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439777310819525427.post-20217129961053468442018-01-18T12:17:00.000-08:002018-01-20T19:09:07.842-08:00Who Killed George? Part 1.<span style="font-size: large;"><i>My friends at <a href="http://crackyournuts.proboards.com/">Crack Your Nuts</a> have asked me to join them in a writing challenge where we write an article, short story, essay, or whatever we can think of everyday. Challenge accepted.</i><b><br /></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Writing Challenge Day 9 - post 4.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">From a <a href="http://writingexercises.co.uk/plotgenerator.php">random plot generator</a> I got this:</span><br />
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<span id="div1" style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">A woman in her early forties, who can be quite spontaneous.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;"></span><span id="div2" style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">A man in his late thirties, who can be quite overbearing.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;"></span><span id="div3" style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">The story begins by a river.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;"></span><span id="div4" style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">A relationship breaks up.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;"></span><span id="div5" style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">It's a story about terror.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;"></span><span id="div6" style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">Your character attempts to keep a low profile</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">Standing by the banks of the St. Johns river at a state park in DeLand, Florida, George and Vicky, a four year couple, are finally saying there goodbyes. George, an idiot by all accounts, is only good at playing x-box and not showering, while Vicky, good at many things, doesn't want to waste anymore of her life with someone with no ambition. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">"I'm sorry, I really am," Vicky said with her hand on his shoulder. "You will find someone, I'm sure of it."</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">"Shit, Vicky, we've been dating for four years."</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">"I know, and I treasure each one. I just have to move on. It's not working for me."</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">"So just like that. After four years, up and run?"</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">"I'm sorry. Please don't be angry."</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">George turned his back to Vicky, looked at the flowing waters of the St. John, and exclaimed, "You can't leave! I won't allow it"!</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">"You do not control me! You have to let me go."</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">George turned, looked her in her eyes, and was about to hit her, "You little bitch."</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">Vicky brought her hands up to defend herself. George never hit her before. He was overbearing and a complete jerk, but never abusive. "Don't you dare!"</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">George withdrew his raised hand.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">Vicky walked away to the parking lot, "It's over." </span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;">George was still staring at the river, lost in thought. His anger trumped his grief at the moment. What a bitch, he thought to himself. Who does she think she is?</span><br />
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">While staring at the water, George felt a presence behind him. He turned quickly to see the most horrible thing he's ever seen. And with that came the most horrible cry of anguish ever heard. And the river ran red with George's blood.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;"><br /></span>Bob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439777310819525427.post-36288711377027709552018-01-14T13:18:00.002-08:002018-01-20T19:10:06.139-08:00Would you like to swing on a star - part 2.<span style="font-size: large;"><i>My friends at <a href="http://crackyournuts.proboards.com/">Crack Your Nuts</a> have asked me to join them in a writing challenge where we write an article, short story, essay, or whatever we can think of everyday. Challenge accepted.</i><b><br /></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Writing Challenge Day 5 - post 3.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">From a <a href="http://writingexercises.co.uk/plotgenerator.php">random plot generator</a> I got this:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />A man in his late twenties, who is very secretive.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">A woman in her early forties, who can be quite sensitive.<br />The story begins in a hovel.<br />A close friend has a terminal illness.<br />It's a story about a life or death decision.<br />Your character investigates with the help of a good friend</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Would you like to swing on a star - Bob Smeets</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sarah was astonished, "That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"I truly meant it." Lenoir smiled.<br /><br />"Where have you been all my life?"<br /><br />Lenoir laughed mightily - A long laugh that reverberated through the little hovel, "You can only imagine."<br /><br />"So, are you here to prevent... you know, prevent what I came here to do?"<br /><br />"You can do whatever you want, Sarah, I just hope you choose to keep fighting."<br /><br />"I'm a wreck - a train wreck!"<br /><br />"That is true!" Lenoir laughed again, in all honesty.<br /><br /><br /> Sarah moved past Lenoir, feeling his presence as she walked by him, and went outside. It was getting dark. The pinks and oranges were starting to show in the sky. She turned her back against the wind, which was sweeping down off the mountains. She still planned on killing herself. Hopefully this strange boy leaves, she thought. Perhaps after, later when he is gone.<br /><br /><br /> Lenoir walked outside and stood next to Sarah, "I actually need your help. Since you were going to kill yourself anyway."<br /><br />"What do you want?"<br /><br />"Like I said, I need balance. There is a man in a place that I can't reach to. I keep getting lost trying to find him. I need you to stabilize the situation so that I can grab him."<br /><br />"OK, sounds weird..."<br /><br />"It is weird, you would be perfect at it, though, that's for sure."<br /><br />"I'm not perfect at anything."<br /><br />"I disagree. In any case, it is very dangerous and you may die. Which is what you want isn't it?"<br /><br /><br /> Sarah could only think of death, it was true. Sure she might be able to elbow out all her personal demons, but that would take time, extreme effort, and a lot of meditating. Her sorrow would come back again and again. Her mood would fluctuate so much that she would contemplate killing herself in a week. And there was something sweet about this boy, something she knew she couldn't pass up. Whoever, or whatever, he is, he sure is inspiring.<br /><br /><br /> "Alright, tell me everything."<br /><br />"I'm going to go to another realm. The realm of faerie. There is someone I need to find there and bring him back here. Who and why doesn't really pertain to you. But your fluctuations of mood can be very useful to this task. You can draw people to you. There's something about how your mood works - heightened and raw - that draws certain energies to you. And you don't even have to do anything special. Just stay here and hold this rope." Lenoir pulled a 3 inch yellow rope out of his satchel and handed it to Sarah, "Can you do that?"<br /><br />"Sure... I thought you said it would be dangerous... that sounds easy."<br /><br />"You are my connection, once I enter the faerie realm. You are a bridge, essentially. There's no telling what might also attach it self to the rope. There are many things in the faerie realm and some of them are certainly not pleasant. With your hidden power, some unwelcome things may be drawn to you, and we do not want that. It is a risk. On one hand I will be able to find the one I'm looking for but on the other we may attract things we don't want."<br /><br />Sarah took a deep breath, "OK, let's do this."<br /><br /><br /> The air was breezy and blowing wildly for a summer night. Was the rush of wind an omen? Lenoir wraps one end of the rope around his body and ties a knot in it. He nodded to her, "You ready?" She nodded back and then watched Lenoir walk a couple feet forward and then jump - rather dive - straight into the earth. He was gone, with only the rope sticking out of the earth, that she held tightly.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">To be continued...</span></span><br />
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Bob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439777310819525427.post-55634281731380707312018-01-11T10:51:00.001-08:002018-01-20T19:10:22.706-08:00Leaving for Good<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><i>My friends at <a href="http://crackyournuts.proboards.com/" style="color: #4d469c; text-decoration-line: none;">Crack Your Nuts</a> have asked me to join them in a writing challenge where we write an article, short story, essay, or whatever we can think of everyday. Challenge accepted.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">The prompt for the <a href="http://writingexercises.co.uk/quick-plot-generator.php">plot generator</a> gave me this:</span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">Your main character is a young woman in her late teens, who can be quite selfish. The story begins in a hair salon. Someone is leaving for good. It's a story about a journey. Your character realizes no-one will listen to what s/he's saying.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px; text-align: center;"><b>Writing Challenge Day 2 - post 2.</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Leaving for Good - Bob Smeets</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px;">"I'm leaving for good this time," Daryn said, sitting down in the barber chair, "I can't keep hiding from them."</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px;">Tess draped the nylon robe over Daryn's body, spritzed her hair with water, and grabbed the scissors, "Sure you are... same style as always?"</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px;">"Yeah, keep the front long and the back short, kind of like a bob-cut."</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px;">"You got it."</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px;">"I'm telling you Tess, if I don't leave they will take me."</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px;">"I know, the aliens right."</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px;">"Yes, I've told you a hundred times. You don't believe me do you?"</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px;">"Sure I believe you... and you know what, I stole The Kiss, by Gustav Klimt, it's hanging above my bed."</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px;">"Come on, I'm telling you the truth."</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial"; font-size: 20.8px;">Tess looked long and hard at Daryn, observing her soft face, with those beautiful eyes, wondering why such a girl would lie like that. Was she an attention seeker? Was she mentally ill? Who makes up stories like that?</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">"Tess, can I give you the key to my apartment? I have to go away for a while... a long journey."</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">"Me, ugh, sure... Do you not have anyone else to give it to?"</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">"Just you, all my family are in Chicago. It's just in case of emergency. I may need you to get me some things from my apartment while I'm gone."</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">"What kind of things?"</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">"Ugh, you'll see."</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "helvetica" , "helvetica neue" , "arial";"><span style="font-size: 20.8px;">to be continued...</span></span><br />
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Bob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439777310819525427.post-40838413910128699272018-01-10T02:47:00.000-08:002018-01-20T19:10:45.476-08:00Would you like to swing on a star - part 1.<span style="font-size: large;"><i>My friends at <a href="http://crackyournuts.proboards.com/">Crack Your Nuts</a> have asked me to join them in a writing challenge where we write an article, short story, essay, or whatever we can think of everyday. Challenge accepted.</i><b><br /></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Writing Challenge Day 1 - post 1.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">From a <a href="http://writingexercises.co.uk/plotgenerator.php">random plot generator</a> I got this:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />A man in his late twenties, who is very secretive.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">A woman in her early forties, who can be quite sensitive.<br />The story begins in a hovel.<br />A close friend has a terminal illness.<br />It's a story about a life or death decision.<br />Your character investigates with the help of a good friend</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Would you like to swing on a star - Bob Smeets</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /><br />Sarah, a sensitive, lonely girl, from the Scottish Highlands, sits in a wobbly chair, that wants to break, with her face buried in her hands, sobbing, laughing, and then sobbing again. Her emotions, too much to control this time, echoed through the small, disgusting hovel out in the middle of nowhere. The chair, like the rest of the stuff in the small hut, are all in ruin, with dirt and dust everywhere. A fitting end, she thought, to a life in constant ruin anyway.<br /><br /><br />This is not a passing low for Sarah that just comes and goes. Sarah is having one of those dire moments, again. A passionate person to begin with, she can become lost in the complex duality of life, at the mercy of everything and yet none of it at all. Her mood can be off the charts. Her heart can bleed with ferocity.<br /><br /><br />"Nothing is ever ours because we don't control anything; this is why we cry," Sarah shouted. "Except everything is given to us from the compassion of God and this is why we cry too!" <br /><br /><br />Standing upright out of the chair and looking off at some invisible accuser, she laughed, as if figuring out the nature of crying was an epic game that she won, "In relation to pressure, we cry because we lose control, and if that pressure were of a more happy form, we laugh because we lose control!"<br /><br /><br /> Sarah wondered, with tear stained cheeks, what it was about control that made her weep so ferociously, and why she couldn't grasp it, hold on to it, and use it. How can she be so naked and vulnerable to so many overwhelming forces? Is control an illusion - her life an illusion? Life goes away in a flash, right before our eyes. "Does anything even matter? Am I "just" a human or am I "especially" human?" <br /><br /><br />Sarah came to this isolated area in the Scottish wilderness to be alone and get some much needed healing. The doctors in Aberdeen signed the release forms, having done all they could do. They gave her some prescriptions, a hefty bill, and a lot of fake smiles. So the small, rundown hovel west of Inverness, where she used to camp, was her last chance at "peace".<br /><br /><br />With her grief now at a frenzy, reaching out with her hands, Sarah clasped tightly onto the bone-handle knife. She held it close to her neck, shaking and hesitant, "We are damned if we do and damned if we..."<br /><br /><br />But before she could even finish her sentence, and finish the job, "You always have a friend in me Sarah." A raspy voice, from the small open door to the disgusting hovel, boomed loudly and surprised her.<br /><br /><br />Sarah turned and stared at a boyish young man with long, straight hair, covering much of his face. He seemed to be about 20 or so. There was an adorable toughness to him, she thought. He was wearing dirty, casual clothing - a rolling stones t-shirt and some blue jeans.<br /><br /><br />"Who the Hell are you?" Sarah quickly hid the knife behind her hip, but couldn't hide her shock.<br /><br />"My name is Lenoir."<br /><br />"And... how do you know me?"<br /><br />"I have been watching you for some time. I have come to calm you down, because I need your help."<br /><br /><br />Sarah knew there was nobody around for miles. The Scottish Highlands is sparsely populated with mountains all over the place. Who could this boy be and how does he know my name, she thought? She tried to figure him out, quickly, "Did someone send you here? Are you with the hospital?"<br /><br />"No, I'm here for you."<br /><br />"OK, what does that mean?"<br /><br />"I know what you are going to do here," he said, while making a fast slicing gesture with his finger across his neck.<br /><br />"How could you possibly know that?" She looked him over again and timidly took a step closer, "Are you... God?"<br /><br /><br />The boy relaxed his stance and came inside the hovel, "Oh no, not at all. In some respects I am an Angel, yes, though at times I can be a Demon. Sometimes I am just an Owl. Sometimes I am the air. But to the matter at hand. I understand what you are going through. I can help you."<br /><br />"You're an Angel? Holy Sh... I mean, wow..."<br /><br />"Not an Angel, the way you think... technically I'm classified as a Non-Human. Will you let me help you?"<br /><br /><br /> Sarah purposefully says nothing...<br /><br /><br />The boy shifts his stance for a more confident and secure posture, "You suffer from a heightened sense of emotion, do you not?"<br /><br />"Yes..."<br /><br />"Bi-Polar, right?"<br /><br />"That's what the doctors say."<br /><br />"Do you think killing yourself will make your emotions go away? Do you think your mood will instantly get better? Death doesn't make you perfect or miraculously give you all that you lack. You have this affliction of yours forever. Everybody has there own things - forever!"<br /><br />"I don't care! I want all my emotions gone... I mean they are useless. I don't want them to control me and I don't want to control them. I'm sick of managing life, with all it's ups and downs."<br /><br /><br />Suddenly, but slowly, the boy gets up, looks far away and reaches deep inside his own soul and begins to sing, "Would you like to swing on a star? Carry moon-beams home in a jar? And be better off than you are? Or would you rather be a mule? A mule is an animal with long, floppy ears. He kicks up at everything he hears. His back is brawny and his brain is weak. He's just plain stupid with a stubborn streak. And by the way if you hate to go to school, you may grow up to be a mule." The boy looks and smiles at Sarah, "Come on you know this song."<br /><br /><br />Together, Sarah and this mysterious, self confessed Angel/Demon, begin to sing together, "Or would you like to swing on a star? Carry moon-beams home in a jar? And be better off than you are? Or would you rather be a pig? A pig is an animal with dirt on his face. His shoes are a terrible disgrace. He's got no manners when he eats his food. He's fat and lazy and extremely rude. But if you don't care a feather or a fig, you may grow up to be a pig."<br /><br /><br />The boy takes Sarah's hand and swings her around in his arms. For a moment she feels genuinely happy. She realizes she can't dance with him properly, the knife, still clutched in her left hand. She stops and they both look at the knife...<br /><br /><br />Sarah quietly understands now, "I am at the mercy of two different spectrum's at all times."<br /><br />"Yes, unfortunately."<br /><br />"Swinging on a star, or degrading into an animal."<br /><br />"That is the human condition, but especially true in your case."<br /><br />"I want to be normal. I want to be OK with not having it all, but not get so low that I become a stupid animal. How do I do that?"<br /><br />"Support, friends, having an outlet... and you should always give yourself a million breaks. Because in your case, you deserve every one of them."<br /><br /><br />The boy looked away, out to the open door, taking in the grassy hills and large mountains, then back to Sarah, "You know that feeling when you're driving, listening to the sound of your car wheels on the highway, suspended by the sound of motion... or when a summer breeze blows in through an open window and relinquishes its natural beauty for the house to feel... those moments of pure, whimsical fancy followed by an accompanying nothingness or bliss... that's what you remind me of."</span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
To be continued....</span><br />
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Bob Smeets</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>Bob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1439777310819525427.post-24906074301782697082011-04-19T13:50:00.000-07:002011-04-19T13:52:20.380-07:00Tutorial 02 - Homemade Photoshop Screen TonesI found this link years ago and I've tried it on some of my art with excellent results. Very good tutorial and easy to follow and understand. I quickly made a couple sets of screen tones at different resolutions for my own needs.<br /><br /><a href="http://tentopet.deviantart.com/art/Photoshop-Toning-Tutorial-13587562?q=sort%3Atime+favby%3Arally-ae&qo=3&offset=20">http://tentopet.deviantart.com/art/Photoshop-Toning-Tutorial-13587562?q=sort%3Atime+favby%3Arally-ae&qo=3&offset=20</a>Bob Smeetshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12834180910007327250noreply@blogger.com0