I Hate the Farm!

I literally despise our farm... I am tired of having to pretend that I like it just to spare my parents' feelings. My dad precisely since he worked hard on it. I hate it because I'm always forced to go there even though I so badly want to return to the city. I am not a country girl and I am not old enough to retire and settle down with the cows, goats and camels. And what more... I am not even going to inherit this place if my dad passed away. Someone please tell me what the point is.

This is HIS thing... not mine... HE's the one enjoying it, not me. Most of the times I've nothing to do there. Now again I'm being forced to go there and sit around... I'm in the car going there as I write here. I am that pissed I had to let it out somewhere.........
bugger....

Luck Does Not Exist?

So apparently I hear luck does not exist. I'm curious to hear people's opinions on this. There was a discussion in the girl's dorm on whether there was such a thing as luck or not. I was completely with the fact that a person could get lucky and a friend retaliated with the fact that whatever happens happens due to coincidence, not luck. It was a very confusing discussion. Then another suggested for the word luck to be defined and I defined it as.

*Something good that happens that does not usually happen or that has a small chance of happening*

So what about the lottery? If I won a car tomorrow... I'd be considered lucky... others did not agree... they said it was coincidence... not luck. Because if a person bought 10 tickets and another bought 1 it's not necessary that the one who got 10 would win. He just has a higher chance of winning. I did not understand how that statement negates the existence of luck exactly. Cuz to me the person who gets the ticket in the end is the one who got lucky no matter how many tickets he bought.

I got torn in between and wasn't able to decide yesterday though.

However, I decided today that I still believe in luck. I believe luck exists because I am not the only one living on earth. There are other people as well. Which means I do not have power over everything... and the things I don't have power over... could either go with or against me according to how lucky I would get. (which means how many things would go with or against me) Luck does not label a person as a fortunate or unfortunate fellow. It's not a supernatural power... it's merely the definition above. And to me, the definition above DOES exist. If something good happens to you that does not usually happen it means you got lucky.
I believe yesterday's confusion was due to the wrong definition or interpretation of luck.
So I'll just agree to disagree.

What do you think?

Come for Auditions

So we're setting up a poster to announce the timings of auditions for several plays. My friend came up with Sam says... I want you. All that came up in my mind after that was a witch pointing and staring. So I drew the adorable lady down here.


sketch

^The sketch is up there if you're interested.

She says, 'we'll be waiting for you'...

so what do you think?
would she make you want to come for auditions? :p

Prologue To The Exes 2

I finally started writing the first chapter of the second sequel to The Exes. I thought I might share the prologue here. Those who read the first one will recognize the characters. Those who haven't however will understand the story later on anyway.

Prologue
From The Past

Across azure skies a bunch of tiny leaves drifted into emptiness and solitude. Neither sound of breath nor feel of existence were evident. Yet past its eerie atmosphere a spark of light found its way through withered ruins. Bright and beautiful as a river of shining pearls, water springs flowed around an old room that was long forgotten. The rays fell over faded pages and blunt edges. As discolored as the papers were, in it so vaguely the words appeared. Every page filled with memory. Every page filled with legends hardly spoken of.

Those inscriptions marked earlier times; an age before many generations. It was the ancient history of when Exes and humans used to cross similar paths. When conflicts did not take place, until human greed overclouded their minds. Dust and ash got swept from the pages as the wind blew by. The words written, now appearing more clearly, read:

October, 1701 AD

There have been many sleepless nights. The fires burnt higher and the cries of the two races could still be heard from a distance. I sat huddled on my chair with a nearly overused smoking pipe. How did it come to this? Events have taken a turn beyond my better judgment. Why did it come to this?

They speak of humanity, of freedom, and here they pretend to fight for it. Was it just my illusion or was that a mask to obscure their true objective? Where have the friendships and fellowships gone? Where has the blissful unity gone?

This is something far from all of that. Lord Agean started a massacre that should not have been. The Exes showed nothing but kindness to us. They looked to our every whim and well being. To what extent did this greed take us?

By edge of axe the Exes were gradually annihilated. I spoke to Vladimir with such shame. He was alert and watchful, hiding in my hut. His eyes struck with fear. His youth bore all the signs of the Ex race. I knew his presence here was no longer safe and I watched him with sympathy. I saw in him such a nobility that humans were not worthy of. His dead silence showed his agony and despair.

“What’s going on Master Sage?” said he with a saddened voice of a helpless child. “Why are we fighting?”

“I could give you a reason my boy, but it would not be a just one,” said I, all sorts of passion and hatred passing through me. “It’s not safe for you to stay here any longer Vladimir.”

The young Ex slightly nodded his head in understanding, looking silently out of the window, his eyes stained with tears at the sight of his hometown.


November, 1702 AD

It had already been a few months since the Exes vanished. My heart skipped a few beats at the thought of their extinction and I prayed to god for the young Ex to be safe. Then coming events changed the course of time and I stumbled across a map that concealed within a clue I was not aware of. A sacred crescent they said held the silhouette of what looked like an orb. The engravings were deep and the paper seemed to have been torn carelessly out of a book from the lord’s cabin. I retraced the tracks and retreated to the library. What may seem insignificant to the eye bore a great purpose, and from the descriptions that followed the map, I knew this war was not over.


End of Prologue. The story barely started yet. But I always tend to speak of the past before I head to the present. I'll leave the rest to your imagination and the book.

The Fruits of My Boredom and Lack of Respect

This is a poem I wrote during uni's most boring lecture given by the most boring professor.
Someone I recently lost respect for... why?
because I have a feeling I know more about the subject he's teaching than he does. All he ever did was read from the book and explain what he was reading in a very unprofessional and bad way. I actually believe some students would be able to explain things better than him.

As he was explaining something about the meaning of linguistic intuition. He only explained how linguistic intuition could be acquired... but he apparently couldn't explain or define what linguistic intuition was in the first place... I mean I KNEW what it was... but I wanted to see how he would explain it... so I asked. He answered with.... 'you get it after going through experience in a language'.... so I asked again by saying... I know how it's acquired... my question was... what IS it??
His answer then was.... 'This means you didn't read....'
Was asking for a simple definition too much to answer?? And perhaps people read but they don't understand?? Is it not his job to explain it?
It was obvious that he didn't know how to answer the question and went into something completely irrelevant. The other students realized that as well... since it was not the first time he blamed the students for not reading as an excuse for not having to answer the question.

Can I really learn from someone like that? Can I actually have any respect whatsoever towards him?
Unfortunately not...
to prove to you how easy answering that question is. linguistic intuition is having a feeling for a language after getting used to it. If someone used the wrong grammar in their sentences you would get a feeling that it sounds wrong even though you're not sure why. That's exactly what intuition for language is. And that's all it takes to explain it.

Anyway... I got bored... cuz I had no interest in reading through a book in class which I could read better by myself at home. So I wrote this poem to pass time instead

Here I sit and words fly by
Through one end and out the other
It's hard to hear those words that fly
They're more dull than rainy weather

I'm so bored, extremely bored
I may not wish to offend
Though he's writing on that board
I've no mind to comprehend

This is it, I've lost the will
To live and sit inside this room
I am going under hill
Bursting to escape this doom

I can't wait, but here I am
Counting seconds till the end
Finally I'm out and damn!
Now I know hell's latest trend!

TripleTee
2009

My Review on Atonement (spoiler)

So I watched Atonement since it was one of the movies I transferred from my friend's hard drive. I wanted to see what the big deal was about. I haven't exactly read the book. The movie however was not bad, it was somewhat boring in the middle but it was interesting. That is however not what I wanted to discuss. It's not how good the book or movie was... it's the message that was meant to be passed by the story.

True that girl made a terrible mistake and has forsaken those two's lives because of it. But what I'm going to criticize here is how she chose to atone for it. Does anyone think their mistakes will be forgiven if they write a fake story?? So she chose to write the story that DIDN'T happen but that she wished happened saying that she's giving them the time they deserved together. That sort of spoiled my view on the whole thing. She wanted to atone? Then she should spend her life trying to help other unlucky people who were not able to spend their lives together. Or actually do something good in real life that would rectify her wrongs in the past. Not by writing a fake story. That only makes HER feel good. No one else. It's all just pretty talk.

Anyway... felt like writing it here. lol
Course any opposing opinions are (somewhat) welcome :p
*unlocks her rifle*

Magical Orb Remade

Zorac's a character from my story, the 2nd sequel to The Exes. A book that happens to be about 2 races, namely humans and Exes ( a race of my imagination). According to the story's past history Zorac was the father of all Exes and Eleanor was the mother of all Humans. Of course the events in the first book will be further explained in the second. Things that seemed mysterious and puzzling to the readers will be explained in the second sequel. And the history of Zorac and Eleanor is where it all started.

I drew the first draft of Zorac 3 years ago. (displayed below)


Magical Orb by ~TripleTee on deviantART

This time I've done a remake of him. (below)


Magical Orb Remake by ~TripleTee on deviantART

I guess I'm content with the outcome and he happened to be easier to make than the last time.

Hope you like it :)