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                       Tittle: You’re the totem-pole of your life

You’re the totem-pole of your life. You grow from the ground up, piece by piece, part by part, as your life passes you by. If anything else, you are the one constant of your life. No matter how you change, no matter how you grow, no matter whether you grow up, or not, like me. You are always yourself. What story do your legs yell? If they could speak, where of would they tell me? What paths have you traveled alone at night? What ways have you lost and found again? What would your feet say of the paths you have taken? Did you have permission to do so? Or maybe, did you take them without the permissions of those who owned them? Have your toes felt sand in between them? Are they stubby, or have they been stubbed quite yet? How long have they walked, your feet, how many steps have they taken for you? And how long have your legs held you up? Supporting your life's choices just as your soldiers do? Oops, or should I say shoulders? Hehe, my mistake, ;P

What does your body say? What would your stomach tell to others? What would it tell to me? Would it speak of many nights sick in bed? Left to nothing more but vomiting, and when that’s done, dry heaves? Or would it speak of the family dinners spent together around the table, filled with warm gravy on hot mashed potatoes? Of turkey and ham and things to fill your stomach with? What would your chest tell me? Would it tell me the stories of those for it has pined? Has it felt the ache of love unloved, would it speak of the sorrow of love and of being crushed? What happy days and happy memories fill its space? What butterflies left it to flit and fall into your stomach? And what of your shoulders? What would they say to me? If given the chance? Would they tell me of the weight that you carry? Would they speak of the burdens they have felt? Would they speak of things lifted from them? Of standing tall and proud? Have they squared in defiance at and in the face of adversity? Or have they bowed and bended at the strength of others force, drooping in submission? What would your shoulders tell me? Your chest? Or your stomach?

And what would your head tell me? If your mind could speak, or maybe more so, if you could speak your mind? What things would your eyes tell me? If I could see them as I see your mouth, hear your words as I feel your touch? Would your eyes tell me of tears left, tears right? Would they tell me of your sorrows unspeakable? Things never meant to be seen? Would your eyes tell me the truth? Of what happened? Things you’ve seen, things you’ve done? What of the truths you’ve seen through lies and untruths, misstruths, and deceptions? What of them? Would they tell me of happiness, of crinkles and wrinkles in their corners? Would they tell me of the smiles they’ve seen and they happiness they’ve felt? What stories would your eyes tell me if they could speak?
What stories would your mouth tell me if it could speak? Separate of you, if you could speak your mind as it is, not as you “are meant to be”? If your mouth could speak of you, speak of the truth, what would, of you, it speak then? Would your own tongue cut and snick at you lick so many others have? Or have you been honest enough with yourself to hear the truth even from your own lips? And what of your mind? What would your mind tell me? If you could speak freely without the constraints of human life? If you could speak freely with the freedom brought apon solely by the solace of the aloneness and loneliness of your own mind? What honesty would it speak, would it be able to speak, if I were to let it? What if you were to let it, regardless of my control or “effect/affect”. On you, on your mind, or/and on your body?

What would you mind tell me?
What would your body say,

Here, speak,

I will listen,


"..........and gone another.........." By: TheWishfullPrince

You can not use my misbehavior to justify someone else's misbehavior,

"Well you wouldn't have stopped if I asked you to, so why should I have to ask him to stop bugging you?"

"You do that too, so why should he have to stop?"

"You don't listen, so why should he?"

Etc.,  etc., etc.,

NO! you can not legitimately use my misbehavior to neglect doing your job as the parent.

You can not use my misbehavior to justify one of my siblings misbehavior!

It's entirely and wholeheartedly illogical!

What ever happened to "Two wrongs don't make a right"?
Where did that go?
Like seriously?

You can not punish me by not punishing my sibling.

It goes against everything you teach me!
Like seriously


Ok, enough ranting and raving, now to the actual logical part, ;P

"Well you wouldn't have stopped if I asked you to, so why should I have to ask him to stop bugging you?"

-You should have to ask him to stop because two wrongs don't make a right. You can not use my misbehavior to not punish someone else. You need to do the right thing regardless of whether or not I do,

Because you know what I'm doing here I'm reversing the "You need to be the better person" Schtic,

You, as the adult, need to be the better person and do the right thing regardless of whether or not I do so as well. You need to hold yourself to a higher standard where you will not abuse the situation or the truth to not punish someone else because of what I'm doing, or have done in the past, or what you think I'd have done had I been put in that exact same situation.

And you know what I'm doing right now? I'm being a complete and utter hypocrite. I'm asking you to be the better person even if I even if I wont be, even if I'm not being. I'm expecting you of something that I feel that I am exempt from. And that is unfair, cheating, and wrong of me,

But sometimes, I gotta do that to wheel my way through the lies and get to the truth,

You asked a question, so you got an answer, the answer, my answer,
That you need to do the right thing even if I wont.

Now here's the catch, I'm admitting that of and about myself, that by asking that of you, I am being a complete and utter hypocrite.
But..... so are you when you ask that of me, think about it.....

You look at me, in a situation where me and my siblings are fighting and say,

"It doesn't matter that you started it, you need to be the better person,"

You look at me and say that, even though right now, because I did something wrong, you are choosing not to do the right thing right there as well.

I took on your role, the role of the hypocrite, the lair, the deceiver.

So do you see the truth, untwisted now?
And revealed?
Do you see the danger and the illogical of your behaviors now? ;P

"You do that too, so why should he have to stop?"

Because if when I do it, it's wrong, then when they do it it's probably wrong as well,

You're justifying them doing something wrong by giving the example of me doing something wrong in the exact same or similar situation,

But do you see the acidic, poisonous, absolutely acrid venom that is in that deceptive little twist of the truth?

Can you not see just how devilish that trick is?

Can I not be the mirror to your misdemeanor,
And in that reveal that traitor that is your own heart?
Can you look at me and say that I am wrong,
But then realize that I am you?

Can you say that I sin through my actions,
but then fess up and own up to the fact that my actions are your actions?
That I am mimicking you?

Can you not see that deceptive little truth now?

"You don't listen, so why should he?"

Because if i don't listen, will you teach him not to listen too?
Will we teach a generation of children who don't or do something just because the other does or doesn't?

Will we teach our children that, 'they did it so why should I stop'?

Because, mom,
Because dad,
While you're pointing at me, and say that,
You're pointing at him,
And saying it to him too,

You say to me, "Why should he have to stop bugging you if you wont stop bugging him?"

But to them, they hear, "He wont stop bugging you so you don't have to stop bugging him"

Can you not see the inverted affect, or is it effect?, of the things you say?

Can you not see that when you say that to me, that you're also saying something to them as well?

Can you see that you are teaching as you teach me, a child who is even more impressionable than I am?

Can you?

I can't quite here you anymore,
I don't really know where you went to,
I...I don't know what to do anymore.....,
Why don't i know what to do?

Mommy, why aren't you listening to me anymore?
Where are you?
Where did you go?
Why can't I see you anymore?
Where did you go?
You were there one second,
..........and gone another..........

                                  And as always, I love you all, ;P

"Yeah I want people to know the real me, not a silent girl who dosen't know how to have fun,"

"Heh, but I find those girls the most fun,"

"How so?"

"Because it's like reading a book. They are silent, but every day I spend with them speaks volumes and each day is another page turned. They have plot twists, and some parts I wont like. But the best part is they have no ending, the story just goes on and on. And I get all of that from your silence.
The world calls it, you, 'antisocial'
I call it beauty,"

"You're the only friend that understands,"

"Im the only friend who cares to read the book. I dont try to change anything, improve anything, or alter anything. But that's because it's not my book. I'm not the author, you are. I'm just one character inside of your story, so I choose to make it a good one, ;3"

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A peak at my SCI-FI novel that I've been working on for a while called, Mutation.

I then hear the door upstairs open and I see Avalon rushing down the stairs mid-way to see what the racket was about. With a gaping jaw, he slowly steps down the remainder of the steps and looks at the scene. His breathing was stuttered as so was mine. He even tried to speak a few times but his fear was holding him back.

Avalon finally brings himself together and says in a weak voice, “I-Isn’t that one of those ‘things’ we saw on the television last night, Dom?”

“I-I dunno’ man I just… f-found him in my dead neighbor’s quarters!”

“Jesus, Dominick, we- I need to call the police!” Avalon interrupts himself and runs back up the stairs to get his cell phone. 

I look back at the corpses of both the wolf and the fox. They didn’t look too different, apart from one of them has nearly had their entire stomach gone and the other is just plain ugly. I then hear Avalon’s rushed voice talking over the phone, there was a pause for a moment and I hear him growl.
“It says the police are busy!” He calls from upstairs.

“Shit… Oh God, this can’t be happening, f-fuck!” I whisper to myself from his response.

That was no prank on the news last night, that was real. This is real, that thing is real. All that preparing was worth it, and the final thing I need is… the shotgun. I need the shotgun! I rush back upstairs to grab my keys and drag Avalon back downstairs to get on my motorbike.

“H-Hey now Dominick, slow down now!” He procrastinates.

“Hurry! We need to ride to the pawn-”

“We can take my car, it’ll be safer and more protective than… that, I guess,” Avalon pauses between his sentence to wind his hand at my bike.

I nod and smirk to him, both agreeing and disagreeing at his insight on my plans. He hops over the hood to get to the drivers side, unlocks the car, and we both get in, purposely rushing ourselves. I tell Avalon our destination as he starts the car up. He nods in confirmation and pulls out of the parking lot as a mutilated fox crawls out from under a car and then limps towards us. I roll the window down and sit my armpit on the door to gain stability for maximum accuracy. Firing three shots - two in the chest and one in the head - the brainless fox drops with brute force on the final shot. Giblets burst out the back of his head like a watermelon exploding from the hollowpoints. Avalon drives out of the lot and into the streets where broken cars and more mutilated furries roam. I roll the window back up as the car approaches two canid furries lurking over a rotten corpse. They peek their heads up with a snarl and the hood of the car bludgeons the both of them, squirting small gouts of blood onto the windshield.

“Hot damn!” I cheer as I look behind us, seeing more mutants lag behind the car.

“No! Not hot dang, Dominick! I can barely see now!” Avalon voice cracks of fear.

“Use the windshield wipers, use them!”

“O-Okay!” He acknowledges my idea and turns on the wipers.

The blood spreads out, creating a thinner but bigger splatter on the windshield. Avalon’s fearful look drops and I could tell that he was somewhat okay now. We reach the interior of the city limits as the skyscrapers cast shadows over the streets.

This is my "This I believe essay" that I just made for school. There's a lot of hidden and unseen context here, so ask if you don't quite understand, ;P


I created Liquidchicken and I’m proud of it. I have Aspergers Syndrome, as social disorder that exists on the autistic spectrum. I’m usually very socially awkward, and because of this I have honestly lived most of my life ridiculed and rejected. I spent alot of my life just seeking out what kinds of attention I could whether it be good or bad. But in sixth grade that changed.

In sixth grade I came up with Liquidchicken in order to break the ice with people. It was simply a funny word that I could shout out and say and get attention from it. But I wanted good attention. People told me that I fed off of negative attention, and yeah, I’ll admit that I did. But just because I fed off of it didn’t mean that I liked the taste.

As I used “Liquidchicken” more and more, slowly people began to walk up to me and ask me what it meant. And as they did, for the first time in my life,  started making friends. One day I was walking down the 8th grade hallway, suicide for a 6th grader, but I was going to be late if not. The 8th graders were all easily a foot taller than us, and quite a few picked on the younger students. The hustle and bustle passed around us, me and my friend going unnoticed. Thank God. Then I happened to call out “Liquidchicken” randomly, and all of a sudden two 8th grade girls walked up to me and asked, “Oh my gosh, are you Liquidchicken?” They bother were taller than me by quite a bit, one was wearing a dress, the other jeans. Needless to say I was quite shocked. “U-umm, yes?” I answered, half convinced they were going to bite my head off. “Oh my gosh that’s amazing! We’ve heard all about this cool little 6th grader named Liquidchicken.” And then they just walked away.

I stood there for a moment, staring. My friend turned to me and said, “I thought I was supposed to be the one who got all the girls?!?”

I learned that day, and many afterwards, that names make all the difference in the world. You were problably thinking me weird just a moment ago. Asking yourself, “What the heck’s a ‘Liquidchisken?’.” But I went from being “booger boy” to Liquidchicken. What seemed weird to you just a moment ago probably makes a lot more sense now doesn’t it? For six years my name to everyone was “booger boy”. I was hated, mocked, avoided. Then a name, just as weird came along, but it was my own name, my own Identity, and everything changed.

This I believe, that names, make all the difference.

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Me and +Apple Tail​​ are storytellers and bookworms but we have been so busy with church, band, and traveling that we haven't been able to post much but I do have a new story I'm working on but idk witch to do? The first is called MoonLight Howl its about a 618 year old wolf/girl that watches over a little boy soon after her fate changes.The second is called Fire and snow it is about a boy and his dog yet the dog isnt a dog wait what???!!!!So yeah .Anyway I will post soon so please wait. I will pick the story next Monday
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Moonlight howl
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Fire and snow

Hi, so this looked cool, any bookworms and storytellers here? ;P

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Holaa ^^
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