Dig deep

Growing up I asked about the cute little flags you would occasionally see next to the sidewalk. They would look great on a bike, but they were placed for a reason, I was told they were a reminder not to dig too deep because there was something dangerous below.

Still waters run deep. To even take a sip a whole lot of digging is required.

Final Fantasy 7 Crisis Core there is talk of wind being invisible until it disturbs the water. I think, and the.fish are oblivious to our atmospheric changes sort of. Isn't there a.similitude about being safe and oblivious underground.

I cannot shake a suggestion not even made to me personally, but that only those truly worthy and willing to dig deep enough will find the truth. Or in other words via x-files the truth is out there. But, I am not deserving of it.

I think that truly great minds contemplate issues that lead them to truths. Such truths give a sudden burst of electricity, one like those little flags warned not to dig right there. Anyway, those great minds discover something that for some reason I cannot comfrehwnd and I feel like I must not be digging deep enough. I must not deserve to know, or be shocked.

I ought to be thankful the idea of being shocked doesn't sound comfortable, but I really feel excluded because so many of the desirable thoughts came to other minds in a different way.

Like John Nash on a Beautiful Mind his mind is the trouble so he cannot use it to solve the problem. I now, finally understand that true beauty is not having big boobs, but great thoughts. I'd rather dazzle with ideas than appearance, but any that I would like to impress would never be on,my level so to speak. I have been forsaken and find it hard to be thankful.

I missed the mark. I dug just as deeply, doing all the heaving and laborious work, but nothing. I just don't get it. It is called a blessing by so many. If I named this state I'd call it ignorance.

Fish conversation

I am going to write a story about a newlywed couple. The woman is feeling down and so her husband tries to cheer her up with new companions. Fish. Betas, actually. Then for entertainment they decide to give the fish voices, and it is through realizing how ignorantly trapped the fish is, though it is in a better situation than most bettas, she realizes that the fish is really giving voice to her hidden feelings. There is going to be a scene where she tells her friend of the odd gift and her friend brings unconsidered truths to mind about how awesome the gift of a living thing is. Now, she sees more than simply how cruel it is to restrict a living thing, and she names and lovingly refers to them as her babies.

The husband while speaking for the fish professes once again his undying love, and naturally begins singing, a fish song! How fishy! :)

Jail scene

Where the heck is this coming from? I wanted to spend a little time fleshing out this story, but my mind is preoccupied with a scene of a brother who is imprisoned and his sister goes to visit him. Until I write this out, nothing else will come to me.

One other thing, sort of a side-note, is this interview I saw of Morrissey where he was asked about his creative process. He explained that he was not so intelligent or witty and not the mastermind, but rather the tool (my words not his) and things just fell into place.

synopsis

This idea will actually become a book, and it will likely be my most beloved story. I am not sure what ultimate form it will endure as but I will pour out as much emtion and truth into this blog whenever I feel the persuassion of that great beconing hand of providence.


This is the story of a girl who was raised properly according to anyone that mattered, and so were her siblings and yet they all turned out different. Nurture vs Nature. So, the strugle is between the girl's idea of how things are and how they really are.


The tools that fascilitate this conflict are started with a respect placed in someone who can not be trusted, and this scientist ends up being her brother. Knowing that he cannot help her see what is true unless he hidrs who he is, but it ends up that He, in trying to help her see the error of her ways learns that she was right.

move over bacon

my tale of  a lady searching out the mastermind only to find he doesn't exist, or does he? regardless, this tale must wait a more perfect tale that was just born in my mind that deserves attention.

She rides down the high way in her brand new car with her brother who managed to convince her to let him drive though he was technically underage. He seems to be doing fine but to calm her nerves she turns on the radio, the dj announces that je has recieved more calls regarding this particular song than any in history. Her inyerest is piqued and the song begins playing, "drive on. don't stop now..." rather appropriate as he has missed his turn, "I'm the one driving, but we're headed for greatness, headed down this highway that we've both been before."Just then a dog runs out in front of them on the highway, likely retrieving the previous carrion that had ventured out on this particular hill, and the great blinding sun had increased the heat of the road e.ough to causr a very tempting aroma to have reached this hungry mongrel. Wether or not he had,been pro
perly fed never crossed the mind of the young driver who slammed on the brakes giving his sister quite a whiplash. Then, turni.g off the radio he sang "It stopped short. Ne er to chime again... There's one for ya' sis." In a bit of shock which was understood as the near accident in her car cause by lack of judgement in letting Justin drive anyway, she gulped and feabily said, "That was quite the song, huh?" Still miunderstanding her, which seems to runin the family. "I always wondered why we sang about and old man dying, but I guess as kids we sang about everthing like cradles falling out of trees or the Bubonic plague."

She had a life changing experience, though it hardly seemed like a big deal. She knew that she would never be the same. Her brother was visibly shaken and the situation demanded her attention and action and so she snapped out of her haze to join Justin in this mundane dilemma. "It's things like that that they,made the word accident for. No point fretting over what is done. Time to consider what we do next. Getting home is still our goal, right?"  Justin responded in the affirmative, but asked how to get out of the ditch first. She offered to push from outside and explained that she knew of a back way that they could,travel being as they had missed their usual turn already.

A bad story told gradually

there is a man who is of no consequence to anyone and he has ideas that ought to be heard and appreciated, but he comes to know that it will not be him that gives these ideas life.

He reads about a much younger, much much younger boy who has many talents that he esteems and gives him a voice beyond his years, because everyone loves a prodigee.

Each day, 
I would like to craft a bit of the goings on in his quest to find a way to be heard, it is not until the end that he begins to question why having a voice is of any consequence anyway.

Every story must have a love interest so a beautiful girl falls in love with his ideas, but after learning that they came from such a boy figures that she was mistaken in thinking that such a person as this older dude exsists, which ironically he does, ans funny thing is that she was in a class with him, and loved his poetry then, but it was of no consequence. Foreshadowing is used and allows the viewer to figure the whole mystery out, but though the girl ought to, the audience feels so smart because they figure it out though she doesn't.