Peredhil

Hugs You notice these things happen at a time when everyone is busy? Drat that I should be off the internet so much lately! The Ken I know is sensitive, intelligent, compassionate, good with using words, and a perceptive friend. You have your fallable human moments, but since I love ya, I let that love cover them and focus on the things that make you exceptional when you use them exceptionally. As a member of a family tree stained with genetic conditions, I'd venture to suggest that perhaps you be evaluated for one. Not looking for excuses or things like that. But having been raised by a Bipolar, I know the difference between the man and the condition. Somewhat like the difference between the sun and the cloud that obscures it - from the ground, they both look like they belong together. Having an Aunt who's paranoid schizophrenic, I know this isn't something she chose - and that she intelligently fights every day. Being ADD myself, I find that the right medication gives me a choice - and then I have no excuses for what I do. But just as I wear glasses without shame to focus my physical eyes, the medicine acts like glasses for my attention - so I can focus my mental eyes. Of course, none of this may apply to you, just want to make the point that when something is biologically broken, an arm, weak eyes, abdominal bleeding, dental decay, most people have no problem with getting help. It makes the same sense to get emotional help. But no matter what - you remain in my prayers. hugs and holds.

Hugs That's a big step into responsibility. Not the only way to take that step, but one way. For what it's worth I'm proud to have you in the same Armed Forces as I. -Peredhil

Walking through the shimmering portal from the Tower was like pushing through icy jello. The contrasting blast of heat from the other side was a welcome contrast. Picking his way lithely through the rust-red clinker-top lava, he ducked under the obsidian flow arch. A chill rose from the icy trickle which ran along the gully. A fold in the flow to his right. Stepping into the shadowy crack, he followed it to its unexpected depth, masked by the nearly 120 turn a few steps in. Twisting down into the heat of the ground he stepped into Dante's Lair, the bubbling mud pools alternating with black-flecked lava near the wall. The reddish-yellow bathed the scene as the smell of sulfur filled the air. Stepping off the ledge, it was only a short drop before he hit. The icy jello feeling was a pleasant relief from the heat. Stepping through the shimmering portal, he stepped out into the Cabaret.

This is gripping. Really really well done...

My feelings are that I'm pleased with the affirming freedom of speech we have here at the Pen. Look at the responses! Wonderful. That you expressed your feelings with grammar and structure, so that opinions have become a work of art is one of the things the Pen is all about - in my opinion. I'm choosing to notice a world where more people show to stage a demonstration for peace than show up for a war. I'm noticing the carefully presented images on my television of demonstrators imposing violence on Police clearing streets; I see then strong feelings displayed. I wonder what the reporters agendas are. Truth? Rights? Ratings? What will I choose to believe? How can I confirm it? I do know that when presenting a side to a story skillfully, showing the other side weakens your case. Thus when I research the freedom of assembly which allows demonstrators to express themselves in the United States of America, that the evil Police clearing the streets are taking legal actions to ensure emergency vehicles have the ability to pass freely, perhaps to potentially take a burnt baby to the hospital, or further that the demonstrators could've stayed for days peacefully if they stayed on the sidewalk after obtaining a free and freely granted permit. When some Police do react to taunts and violence with a lack of self control, I see that strongly presented. Damn their badges for being human! If I were a reporter, I think I'd have to ignore all those who retained the professionalism - they don't grab ratings on the news. As far as the war itself - I'm afraid I can't reply. I do agree with Wyvern - Poetic Justice is extremely well written and a pleasure to which to listen, whether one agrees with each track's content or not. Having rambled in circles without really saying anything substancial at all, Peredhil wanders away.

I like ALL these, Now that they are found at last. Time is limited.

I think I might go back and punctuate, but the line breaks do force implicit pauses. Having a light Is a great advantage In looking at others. A feeling of superiority Of being able to see clearly Can creep in. But you can use your light To help others sparkle, Or use your light to work on your own flaws, Or use your light To avoid the snares Into which others stumble Painfully in the dark. The light is a gift, Like having eye color, What will you do with it Becomes a question. If you are hated By those wallowing in dung When you show them their make-up Is it a wonder? It's a choice To continue. Will you?

Many people are blind to themselves, and chose the people as mirrors that reflect their own self-value. So some people who think they are losers because they've failed tend to seek those who will affirm it. Other people who see themselves as winners because they focus on the times they succeed surround themselves with other positive people. Liars tend to seek other liars. Type to type for in the absence of light, everyone is equally ugly and much can be overlooked. Many of this last type dislike those who are lightbringers because of what it reveals about themselves... But every once in a while, you meet someone who reflects you to yourself differently. Offers you a choice to change, to emphasize different parts of yourself, to rearrange and perhaps Become. The best ones reflect you honestly without judgement, accepting all of you, but reflecting back the best of you. Part of being a true friend is being true. That doesn't mean you aren't still the other, just that you're nourishing different parts of you. What you feed with thoughts, beliefs, actions, will grow stronger. Life is about growth. Choose your mirror-friends carefully. Which way will you grow?

I like the way you express the senses of the body in this, showing the feelings instead of talking about them. I think it lends it power.

It feels like that sometimes. I like the movement at the ending into the future, rather than wallowing in the past. One of the most important lessons I'm learning in life is that no matter how bad today is, tomorrow - You'll be one day older.

Peredhil wanders in, munching on chocolate pieces which have mysteriously appeared in his refrigerator, and reads. Wow, VERY good. You'll do just fine here. Looks back and forth and whispers in a chocolate laden breath, If you read the thread addressed to applicants, you're supposed to post an ORIGINAL work, just for the Pen. I think it's supposed to show dedication or something. I'm not sure. But it's even better than giving our Almost Dragonic Elder geld for getting in...

"Yo Tut'" "Yo Ram'" "Anything happening yet?" "Naw. Haven't had any excitement since we watched the High Priest make an asp of himself." They both snicker at the old pun, proving once again that their brains were indeed hooked out from their noses after death. "Want some sacrificial wine?" "Naw, I'm trying to lay off the spirits." Gales of laughter follow this one. Over in the corner, beyond the sarcophagi, Ali shuddered in horror at the mummies banter. He'd been hiding in the interior of the large urn for several hours now. Horror! They'd made the same jokes four times now! In the same order! Their screed was enough to drive a tomb raider insane. Peering through the slot where the lid and terra-cotta rim gaped slightly, he looked at the disheveled mummies perched on their golden tombs. Their wrapping had loosened in the millenia of their undeath, allowing tantalizing peeps at sarcomatoid sarcous. Ali hoped they'd saunter back on their appointed rounds, sashaying around the Sphinx, seeking intruders. He wanted the famed Platinum Ankh! He wanted the potent spirits, the sacrificial wine, which essence was so powerful it apparently could make an undead drunken, bemuse mummified minds. He wanted to get out of the urn, urinate, and grab the goods, and abscond with his ill-gotten loot. As they continued to drone on in eternal repetition, his spirits sank lower than the sand surrounding the Sphinx, a stupendous depth since the Sphinx was buried in soft sands surrounding it's powerfully carved sand-stone statuesque for right up to its crown. The skirring sands has skived off the small etchings, but the main bulk of its body remained. Judging from his stealthy explorations, if the Sphinx were to be unearthed from its sandy surroundings, it would be so tall as to require three men and a boy to see to its top, each view as high as he could, and the next picking up where he'd left off. And in its bowels was the abode of the bodied spirits making bad jokes in archaic Egyptian in front of him. He briefly considered leaping out and letting them feast on his flesh to end this mind numbing spirit breaking torture, however, he was too staunch a soul to succumb to the temptation, holding rather to the spirit of his quest - to silently spirit away the swag! Finally the mummy pair strode away, taking their endlessly fueled spirit lamp with them (how did its alcohol continually burn without consumption?) Leaping from the urn, he hastened to the first coffin. Sliding its lid to the side, the sight he saw was so horrific, it took care of his bulging bladder with incontinent ease. The SPIRITS had wandered away - but their remains remained! The smell was enough to overpower three men (and a boy). His spirits sank further as he sank his hands into the pultrid mess, sifting through the wrappings, searching for the Ankh or Wine. His spirit nearly fled its shell as his heart leapt spasmodically when the hard hands reached up and grasped his arms, so cold as to burn. His shriek of terror told the sentry spirits that another tomb raider had come. "I do hope he is a strong one." "I'm sure he will be, he make it this far." "Oh good! When we distill his spirit, it makes the wine so much stronger..." With terrible twin smiles they turned and headed back to the burial room.[/i]

Since it isn't a contest, but explorations in directed writing, I think I'd go for the broadest interpretation. So if it were me, I'd write about Spirits of Ancient Egypt drinking wine spirits as they are waiting for explorers to spirit their sarcophagi away...

Peredhil carefully paints a Gummi Bear and gives it to Zool. You are so expressive. I'd hug you but I don't want paint on the suit.

ooh! ooh! Read the "Just my nature" lyrics in Poetic Justice in the Library.

Stands up, salutes, and informs the gathered people he's briefing that something more important has come up. Scurrying over to the door, he steps through and suddenly is an Ancient Half-Elf in the Pen. Happy Birthday Wyvern!!! I'm sorry I'm so busy right now I can't take you to lunch to celebrate it. Raincheck? He hands Wyvern a very limp piece of water with words like "I.O.U." and "Wyvern" floating around in it. The Almost Dragonic Sainted Elder nearly cries when he realizes if he tries to alter it in any way, say... to put in money or the name of an expensive restaurant... it will liquify and flow away. Careful with it! Although I understand money usually flows through your hands like water anyway... Leaving Guido and Nuncio, morosely wearing party hats instead of their usual fedoras, to pass out the punch and cake (Guido is using his switch blade to cut the cake), Peredhil looks around. Something's missing and it's not me for another minute... Snapping his fingers, he smiles. He summons his portal and steps through but it doesn't fade. Instead Elrohir and Elladan both step through. Elladan looks brightly at the assembly and smiles a sunny smile. I was at the old place... so THIS is where everyone went... Guido quickly hands him some cake.

The thread was archived in the Library, but due to the weird way Ezboard stores things, it transferred over in an out-of-sequence order. When I get a moment, I'll be deleting it and moving it over, cut&paste.

Peredhil rushes in Wow! That could be straight from life! Agily ducking the blow, he gives Gwai a hug and snickers. Sorry, couldn't resist. Strangely enough, that duality of choice of perception (can't think of another of to throw in ) is still present in my life...

Silexion! Peredhil shakes his head happily at seeing so many old SoB AM acquaintances show up. Welcome indeed!

Laughs in delight. Not to take away from those who are in the grip of drug addiction, but this was a great tongue-in-cheek post!

Mindspawn? Mindspawn! I remember Mindspawn! Too cool.

Peredhil bonks Whynotsin fondly with a large foam rubber bat. Unfortunately, he's so careful to do it gently, not wanting to even accidently hurt him, Whynotsin doesn't notice the tap. With a sigh, Peredhil goes on his way, avoiding the debate.

Heh. It feels that way sometimes, doesn't it? I know when I've posted something I particularly want feedback on, inevitably Real Life sucks everyone's feedback thoughts away. One thing I like about this new board - at least with the view count you can tell if people are reading!

Technically, This would be a member only vote. Not that this particular subject is so drastic, but rather the precedent it sets: Who determines the Pen's goals and structure? If we open votes determining the future of the Pen to guests, who Bows to remove the sting haven't become even Candidates for consideration, then any one could determine the future of the Pen just by making multiple accounts and 'stuffing the ballot' box. On the bright side, I can only stand back and admire the connotations of your phrasing. This is particularly effective at a Literary site devoted to growth and development - It implies anyone voting no is either incapable of having an intelligent conversation, or, even worse in today's Politically Correct society, intolerant of opposing viewpoints, with all the accompanying baggage of racial (intercultural) intolerance, gender intolerance, and intelligence intolerance. This is further heightened with the statement, Which gives the impression that the only reason to vote no is a lack of self control. Extremely well done! You have a definite future, if you chose to pursue it, as a Political speech writer or in advertising. Applauds her writing skills I decline to vote. Having made my stance clear on yet another thread, I find this one redundant.

The Artwork. Peredhil plays with the scanner until he figures out how to operate it - he has one of his sons do it. The Cover and Interior left. 447 kb The interior right (Under where the CD-ROM sits) 255 kb The Back of the CD case (Note the nifty almost dragonic seal of approval.) 834 kb I put these at my website storage area on geocities.com. Due to the way geocities works, I renamed them all to .txt files - but they should open in your browser. If you want to save them - rename them back when you save to the original .jpg extention. I've exhausted my limited graphics abilities. These could be cropped, resized, and oodles of other options I'm quite sure. If someone does clean these up, they could either repost them or send them to an Elder for posting.