View Full Version : Writing Exercise: 15 Minutes Nonstop
8th January 2006, 7:28 PM
NOTE: This was approved by Dragonfree
Here is a good writing exercise for aspireing writers, that can help them learn more about themselves and emotions. It also allows to express yourself directly.
Plus, its entertaining to read what you have done.
Here is what you do:
You write for 15 minutes, 30 minutes, or 60 minutes non-stop, not going back to correct mistakes, your fingers are not to stop moving, and no stopping to think.
Try the exercise and post what you wrote.
I tried doing this with Scrap by PM, and it ended up being very entertaining.
8th January 2006, 8:22 PM
Can we do less than fifteen minutes? like ten?
8th January 2006, 8:31 PM
Sure... Any set time is fine, just don't stop writing.
8th January 2006, 8:53 PM
Hehe this was fun! I know you hate me Byzantium, but I still love you and wrote this in your honor!
It was the last day for Byzantium’s existance. Going by many names, Byzantium was a very strange fellow, once known as the one with the lips of flame and once again known as the plural of the darkness, Byzantium was his latest name, a name of the eternal glory of a world in Eastern Europe. The tale started when he started to write poetry at the mere age of 6 years old, he wrote poems about his doggy and poems about his mommy, poems everywhere! He was a poet and he didn’t even know it! Once upon a midnight dreary, he pondered awake sleep and dreary about the future of his poems, where they would go and where shall they find home. At the age of thirteen he finally left his home, and into the world he went alone. Searching digiliently for the perfect writing, he went miles and miles, his nails he was biting. At last, he arrived in the land of Serebii, a land of elites, writers, and newbies. In this fast land lay a Fanfiction forum, with great writers and n00bs alike. Each day, fics getting pushed to the second page like in a Korum (Indian word for a special massage)! And so this poor little boy posted his first poem, something about reason or latin time or something or the other. He got a few reviews and became a muse. And even started his own awards! Then the day had finally come, war had filled the Fanfiction forum! The dark lord N00bzilla wanted to post his crappy fic, about a boy named ash and his little Pikachu prick. The might Zephyr Flare refused to let this happen, and closed his fic with her mighty fist, everyone a clappin. Then, the evil lord n00bzilla gathered his army, and struck the fortress of the mighty Zephry Flary! They battled for days upon days, with swords, arrows, and no pay. Then finally, the queen Zephry came to say: My fellow fanfictioners, we need to fight! Die Against this enslaught of n00bs we might! But for the honor of the 5 stars we must be clear, for if we win, we shall all cheer! I call upon Breezy, Serpent Syra, heck Dragonfree too! All the fic giants must come together like poo! The time has come to finally battle! Now enough with this prattle! Some n00bs need a killin!” And so the great authors rushed into the fortress, and started slicing and hacking the evil n00bzillas men and women, but more Byzantium stayed asleep till 10. Hearing the cries of his fellow friends as they got chopped up and forced to give character profiles, Byzanitum ran into battle, like a child from a pedophile! And so that day the poor Fanifction forum lost many lives. N00bs, fanfic giants, Iceking alike. As this battle drew to a close, Zephry Flare put on her pair of panty hose. She was one of the survivors, and now came time to honor those who rested with Magayver. Meanwhile in the corners of the castle, lay a bleeding byzanitum, stabbed in the mappazle. The battle was over…the good writers had one. The n00bs were dead….and gone was Dragonfrees head. Byzantium smiled to himself as everything went black. His poems were all posted, his bread was nice and toasted. The n00bs had finally been slain, serebii was free! But in the end, Byzantium really wanted to pee….
8th January 2006, 8:59 PM
That was most... Interesting... I don't hate you... I just like watching people get revenge...
That was really weird.
EDIT: GO EASTERN EUROPE! :P
Umm... Any reason why the n00bs had such a large army?
8th January 2006, 9:05 PM
Yes, that was really weird XD And I know you don't hate me, I just like saying you do =P Also, have you seen the huge army of n00bs lately? They multiply like rabbits too! Their kinda like locusts while the fic giants are lions....
8th January 2006, 9:24 PM
This is so random
Oh ye to find that the mightly lion lay mangeled 'pun a bloodied floor, his death equal under the iron blade and bronze spear. To the locusts lying numerless and the same, to find that they all rise in salute to the honor and pride of a fallen hero.
But it is it of all that I am spouting nothing but nonsesnse? Did my last sentence even make sense! NO! How anyone could feel anything deep in that setence is beyond me.
And another thing… well know. I have no idea what the other thing is….. Uh…
My desk is a mess. I got books everywhere.
Pokémon hand book, Encyclopedia Britannia, The Bartimaeus Trilogy, Harry Potter book 5. Gift card. Dollar. Change cell phone. Lamp….
I don’t know what it is I should say…. I got about 13 minutes left… No wait… Oh wait.. yeah. 13 minutes.
I am making so many spelling and grammar mistakes its not even funny. I have an impulse to correct them all but I won’t… Eh… My screen is ancient. I have a Dell Screen and its white! Like, everybody knows that Dell stuff is always black.
Er… The shading on the icons for various programs with a white background is pretty cruddy…. Um..
Whats with lego Bionicle. How far can they go with that thing? And how exactly is it that the story can go on forever? I think I smell Lego going to waste..
Uh… I have 10 minutes left to my writing. And I wrote very few lines in 3 minutes. Kinda scary… No wait. 9 minutes left. Uh… How off topic am I? I mean next thing you know I’ll be talking about… printers… I have ancient one. Too. Desk Jet 930… Its really annoying and hardly works… Go figure…. 8 minutes left… Umm… I can’t think of a think to write right now. But I have a song stuck in my head and I have never really heard before.
Istanbul not Constantniople.
Long Istanbul not Constantinople.
Why did Constantinople Get the works?
Thants nobodies business but the turks.
And in addition, why is it that the word Turk sounds offensive. It isn’t but it sounds that way. Or at least I don’t think it is considered offensive. Oh and whats the deal with naming Turkey Turkey? I mean, isn’t supposed to be Turkia? I think the government is trying to change the name… Uh…
Well.. 6 minutes left, and I’ve said nothing important… I wonder why? Yeah… … Er… yeah… some people do things for the stupidest reasons… And sometimes that can be unfair to other people. I can name several examples but I don’t choose too. I guess its because I keep stopping what I want to say that I don’t get anything on paper. Except that. But how can we hide emotions as well as we do? Why do we hide emotions so often?
Are we ashamed; is there some sort of consent? Is it to avoid hurting someone, but by holding those feelings in, aren’t we hurting ourselves? Or is that really just to be noble? Nobility in lies? Courage in a self-tortuous shield? Hurting yourself hurts others, how is it noble?
We often do things with other people’s being in mind, but we are oblivious to the fact, that some people do the same thing. Its so arrogant to assume that you’re the only one thinking of other people. Its conceited, and suddenly, you’re acting for your own image. Your hurting yourself to protect others but in the process hurt them, because they know, because they think of you too.
The world isn’t selfish or conceited; we just don’t understand how the human mind thinks.
8th January 2006, 10:24 PM
This is what I wrote with Byzantium. XD I ended up getting way too philosophical. XP It sounds like I hate love, but I don't. ;_; I am as sappy and mushy as the next person and I get my girlfriend RANDOM FLOWERS! *shot* And the first line is from Fight Club. :3
We are the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world. We are the mindless consumers who buy, buy, buy and throw away, throw away, throw away. We sell sex and we buy love and we throw away truth.
Love has been packaged and repackaged and trimmed and remixed and sold over and over and over. Happiness has undergone the same.
Making someone happy sounds like such a noble and selfless thing while in reality it is so often the other way around; love is always a multi-directional thing, you are never really making your lover happy, you are making you both happy. To claim otherwise is hypocrisy close to vulgarity.
So what is the matter with us? Why do we try to organize everything? We take college prep classes in primary and aspire to be rich millionaires when we’re twenty.
Have you ever just tried to stand still and watch the world? When you’re scuba diving 100 feet under, you’re in a different world, a silent world. You cannot speak, you cannot listen, you can only see. You are an intruder, an observer, a stranger in a strange land. You swim silently and you are only there to see, to appreciate the unknown as a crushing pressure of 100 feet of water presses down on you, taking long, slow, deep breaths five-seconds in, ten-seconds out with your respirator and you’re checking your gauge regularly to make sure you’re not dropping below 500 psi. You swim with a cranky old hawksbill turtle, and you turn around and look towards the surface, and you realize that the surface is like Heaven, for it’s rippling and and dancing with shattered shards of light with sunlight seeping down into the dark depths. The fish here look up to that light and they can’t imagine what must be beyond it….they only know that death lies beyond the ceiling of light. So it is as we look to the stars and wonder what lies behind them.
Deep below us, an abyss waits. The coral reef drops off from 60 feet to a foreboding abyss of over 600 feet, and as you get deeper and deeper, the color red disappears from the light spectrum, then the yellow, then the green until all you can see is shades of black and blue in the abyss where light cannot reach because it’s so deep.
Then you’re back on the surface, taking deep gasping breaths and pushing your mask back and you press a finger to your nostril and you snort blood out, as the pressure’s bound to break a few blood vessels in your head for the first twenty dives you make. You look up at the sky, and you suddenly feel so small, but when you’re back on the boat heading back to civilization, you suddenly realize how everyone has built their own small, meaningless world around iPods and Starbucks grande latte coffee and cell phones and the stock exchange and the dull roar of the city drowns out the light of the Big Dipper and Orion in the night skies and you don’t understand it at all.
Guitar dude bill
9th January 2006, 5:31 PM
Here 's mine. I know it's bad
football was one of the besgt ppots in the west because it was very entertainigng cus people would ust kik the ball and it wud go into the goa lbefore peopls eyes and they were loving of the amazing sport and one day david beckham , a super gootballer went off to destroy the peopel of africa cux they were real good a t football so they destoryed the tank that tdavid becham was using for combat. They walked over the sof t ground that hadbeeen their home for m any years.
"Bob what's going on?2 said a mysterious african.
"I ain't got no clue", wwas the reply from the african called Bob. sO THEY awlkaded over to the person that they hated with passion: beckham. They equipped spears and pointed them at The blonde man fiercely with passion . The blonde one didn't hesitate, he tipped them up wiht ferocity and psiion. He wasn't sure wheteher he was doing the right thing or not. a tank hit the sky which appealed to the ment. The africans ran away to the one land the yfrew up in, knya. They were in a table at the chair meeting with many aother members of the arfridcsna council
"Why the heck are you here peo0ple", the chancclelor said.
"Just get out""We're here for a descrutcion of the football communtiy," Said the previous African spiting Becham. The table was round and brown.
"Get out," Said the chancclelor.
The man walked out of the building, onto the ground of Kenya. He was out of the city within seconds. SBUt he wasn't ready for his destrruciton. He put his hands in his pear holder his hips had. In Kenya now the seaprs were called peaers. He moved his legs acrosos the ground so he wouldn't hesitate on getting away and killing his one enemy Beckahm. His friend started running after him
"Stop. Stop,2 His frined sayed. "There are two baeckams. One is real and that one we're are killing is fakae!"
"Oh my god, we must kill the fake and get the real."
The trio ran acrsoss to a red car and opened the door and got in. They started accelarating the car itno full speed.
They were on the m2 riding across the land. The m2 was now conntected with Kenya. The two went into light speed. By coincedince they landed on the fake becham. Then the real beckham came out and they all lived happily ever after.
Okay I know that was very bad
EDIT: sorry. That took 10 mins
9th January 2006, 7:53 PM
Did you make those mistakes on purpose? There were an awful lot..
Guitar dude bill
9th January 2006, 10:28 PM
Did you make those mistakes on purpose? There were an awful lot..
No, but be reminded. This is NO stop in typing.
10th January 2006, 3:04 AM
Yes, you can't go back and correct. Mine's got mistakes too..everyone does. Think of this as a place to just expel all of the words jumbling up your brain, organize your train of thought, and so on.
10th January 2006, 3:38 AM
Whee! Here's mine. Be warned, I typo very often! Now enjoy letting your eyes bleed as you read about cheese, and the vaguely revealed imporance of sticking it up your butt.
Cheese! I eat it, you eat it, we cant eat. Its green like my foot, and larger than switrxerland over a rainbow maid of brocolli, and tasty like a chinwse coocoobird. Whenm it gets right down to it, fcrheese is bad at manty things, like making you evilm, and doesnt wash your cats fur very well, doesnt it? Hi I like cheese lots.
Did I menyoopn er mention thaty cheese is the scerete to life uiitself. Infact I can climb the moon on a creater made of cheese and cleese cheese. Can you fathom cheese on anotbher world almongs side the aliens that peerfer cgorgonzola? Can you? I can becayuse we sent them motzerrrlla and they perfered swisds. Yes,. The luike swiss cheese instwead. Too bad I wantyd to sent them gabrage cheese, which is secretted by ones butt after placeing the schee3se within and leaving it in there for 30 minutes ion hend. An you fathoom a wotrld without cheese?
Speakingf about bnig pains in my butt like the cheese ionstidwe, cheeddar is not wortth its time. Cheeedar is evil ! It shtole the presidents moth and his nonexistent plain, erm blrain. Yeese, hat crazy peresident is making be spell nbaldly, or rather, I spell badly.
That damned cheese presidernt, he is montary cjack and he is leet evil! He must be plundered of hios teddy bear made of ynnocent milk powder and cookie juice! Damned cjookie juice can destroy the pklanet if it wanted to. In factr it did so every minute of its life, becayuser it is leet evil azzilluion tim,es a day, like president montarrey jack. Tyhats jack crap if you get what im saying. I be t u don’t, but jkust bear with me. Bear like a teddy, damn it! BEAR! Book.
Mmm, I need a beer, and a bear,. I meed a bear nay, a beer and a bear, and some meed. I need to be drinking enough for what Im saying to makes more sense! Myu god,. I need my beary beary beer, its beery good! Beery good indeed.
Now back to cheese, and the beer., bear and cheesy beer are evil but go together better than wine with cheese by a furlong under the universe ofthe gorgonzola nmiljk. In fact, this makes so much sense that I could shoot the mpressident montaray jack in the stomach if I damned well pleased myswlf by dointg son, and son of a blue ichewese he is.
There is something very very wronbg! Perfhaps one day, I will beat the ceese, or eat the cheaese, or have meat with the cheese, like a burger on a platye made of oniondip , which is nt made of onions either. I will allso meed and need my mead and meediocre ity at that. Can you deciphert the meqaning bohind the ceese? The cheese only wishinsh to server your existence with ts inchor which is yunck ucky ichor. Yicky indeed. But you must oust monterrat jack if you qwish to taklke him, because u cant score a down touch down unless you do nio is the secret phrase. Say nio right niow, heh you get it? Bnoom! That is the end of the woprld! I cannot see te cheese taking down evil montarray any day soom, or soon for that matter, but whwen they do, we will cheer and celebrate our rwear ebnds off, which will of coutrse be stuffed wioth cheese for thiry minutwes. God bless the thirty minutes of butt shuffing!
10th January 2006, 3:52 AM
I'm finding that most of these posts will just further convince most of us that we are stark mad (including myself).
Oh how fun it would be to see one of these by xXSaberXx
10th January 2006, 3:54 AM
I must say, this is a really good exercise to do and I will be using it regularly to prep myself for writing from now on! Good job Byzantium, oh slayer of the N00bzilla
10th January 2006, 8:02 AM
OH man this was fun. I should do this more often, ya know?
I think I managed to completely change the direction of this as I went. Huh. Odd how the mind works, isn't it...
I was panicking at the moment, staring downwards at the ground and wondering about how I got myself into all of this. I saw my shadow clearly in the grass and thought about the sun above me giving me even more pain than was already being inflicted… I had to get up, but I could not move my knees without sending a sharp message to my brain saying not to. (Natu?) That suddenly reminded me; my Natu was faithfully waiting for me at my home, and I could easily call it to help me in my state of pain (hey, logic is not a thing that comes easily when you CAN’T MOVE). Its psychic powers would be able to lift me back to my feet… probably to just make me fall again, huh? Oh well. The pain was now blinding me and what was once grass became a green blur. Soon enough it evolved into dizziness and my face was sent flailing into the soil, giving me those annoying little grass itches that come from the pesky plant. Now I was hurting, my face in the ground like a frickin’ Doduo and I couldn’t do anything about it. This is kinda stinky, huh, I thought to myself.
But then I totally got my conscience back. Seriously. I was suddenly able to get up and look at my surroundings. I saw even more green grass below me and a few airplanes flying in the clear blue sky above. The sun was still as fierce as before, but it meant nothing; I was up and moving instead of being focused on. I silently laughed at the sun about how its target was now out of easy range. I walked a few more steps and nearly tripped and fell AGAIN when an object quickly zipped by my head. It left a rift in the grass from its speed, as well as a hollow whoosh. I turned around to see a small- NATU. Greeeeeaaaat.
I grabbed a frying pan that randomly generated in my hands and took a swing… home run, man. Home run.
10th January 2006, 4:09 PM
And now for something completely different! Fifteen minutes to type a scene involving Mateo of the Starbolt's first flight.
*sets timer* 9:51 am
"You can do it!" a woman called.
I turned to my right and I saw Avian, a tall woman with long white wings, hair and as odd as it sounded, horns similar to that of a devil on her head. She was beckoning me to spread my own fourteen foot long wings and fly like her. I was atop a high platform and below, two friends dressed in blue uniforms cheered me on.
"Come on, Mateo!" my best friend Jenna exclaimed. I want to see you flying!"
"Yeah!" the other, her cousin Kevin waved an arm. "The wind conditions are most prime. What have you got to lose?"
"How about crashing and burning?" I called back down and turned toward Avian, who smiled gently at me. "I don't know if I'm ready, Avian. I mean I've never actually flown."
That much was true. I was just sixteen and found myself recruited to Stan Whitefox's trainee team to understand why a bunch of teenagers like me were suddenly granted strange powers. I was born with these wings on my back and to top it off, I had strange energy coming out of my hands. I took a deep breath and looked back down at my new friends, who were joined by the new kid, Marcus.
"Wings take his first flight yet?" I heard Marcus ask.
"Don't let them distract you, Mateo." I felt a gentle shoulder on my hand. "You've been granted the power of winged flight. Now you must spread your wings and watch me."
The Agent of S.T.A.R. known as Avian jumped off the high platform and within seconds she was flapping her feathered wings in mid air. I felt like a baby bird learning how to fly and slowly I stretched out my massive wings and took a good look at them.
"These wings." I thought.. "These'll help me fly like her. What have I got to lose?"
"Today, Arlandero!" Marcus yelled again.
"Don't rush, him Marcus!" Jenna snapped.
"Thanks for the push, guys!" I laughed as I jumped into the air.
Instinctively my wings began to flap loudly as it hovered by Avian. She looked down at me like a mother bird and I was just a baby sparrow taking his first flight. A second later, she dashed toward the ground. I figured she wanted to see me land and I quickly followed suit.
"Come on, now!" Avian called from the ground. "Landing is just as easy as taking off, child."
"Yeah, easy for you to say!" I called as i slowly made my decent. "I think I'll try though."
I quickly dove toward the ground and pulled up at the last possible second and I ended up landing. However, it wasn't wuite the landing I had in mind as I landed on my hands and knees. I obviously still had some work to do and I meekly looked up at the veteren hero, Avian.
"So, uh..."I laughed. "How about we work on landings tomorrow?"
10th January 2006, 6:05 PM
The scariest thing I can imagine is knowning that I’m going to die sometime in very near future. I’m dead scared that I’m going to pass the average age for Icelandic women and just be convinced after that that I’m going to die any moment and stop eating or caring or doing anything, just because I can’t stop thinking about when I’m going to die. When I die, I hope it’s quick and unexpected. Nothing like cancer without a cure or something else unpleasant and avoidable. Or a murderer who keeps me tied on a chair while he wonders how he’s going to kill me, with nobody knowing where I am or where he is or anything. Actually, it would be kind of exciting if somebody did know it and it were a matter of time or something, but a matter of time is a matter of time and that would be kinda exciting like I said, wondering if I were really going to die. But if I knew that I was definitely going to die and I wasn’t hoping to live or anything, just knowing I’m about to die, I’d seriously panic. I have this fear of being tied up so I can’t move or talk or do anything, too. It would be really scary not to be able to move. Even if nothing was going to happen to me or anything, I’d just be really scared. I don’t really know though. I can imagine being scared if I were stuck in an elevator in a burning building even though somebody might discover me and save me.
This map on my wall is interesting, because it has all the mountains raised. I wonder how good it is in relation to real life, compared to its actual size. The Pokémon poster is interesting too. The shadow of that curtain is kinda cool because of how diagonal it is. My friend drew a nice Christmas tree on that Christmas card. My hairbrush has a lot of hair in it. StarCraft is a cool game, I like the humans but the Zerg are cool, they’ðre just kinda alien-like and with this kind of octopus alien-like look thing that I just don’t get. They don’t really look like octopi, or octopuses or however the plural of that thing is, though, that was just the first thing I thought of for some reason. Octopi are interesting creatures that spew ink. I have no idea why I just typed that. I wonder if my caulculator still has my name on it there somewhere. I think it came off after a couple of years of rolling around in my schoolbag. Why is the default langauge in my Word documents always set to Icelandic? The little pencil on the icon that says if I’m typing is fun, I can watch it to make sure I’m always typing non-stop because otherwise it will have a little red V symbol. But I’m kinda cheating because I always automatically correct my mistakes while I’m typing. I can’t help it somehow. I’m just pressing backspace before I can think “don’t correct it”, and if I don’t think it I’m really more following the rule because I’m not supposed to be thinking about what I’m doing, am I? I still have my Butterfree drive open. I wonder if I can access the Z drive yet. When will Dad be home? I should be writing about something, not just the random things I think of. Hmm, how about writing this Harry Potter thing I dreamt a while ago:
Voldemort, Draco and the Death Eaters made some certain objects glow blue, but when the blue-glowing objects were touched in daylight, they would always make the person who touched them glow blue too. The blue-glowing people were dangerous and had to have the spell lifted by Draco, Crabbe, Goyle or some other Death Eater’s child who knew the counter-curse. I don’t remember why they couldn’t just tell what the words were, though. Oh, right, the Death Eater children were speaking too quietly for them to hear. So basically Harry got blue-glowed, or was it Ron and Hermione who got blue-glowed when they were hugging or something like that, because Hermione got blue-glowed from reading a blue-glowed book, and then she hugged Ron and he got blue-glowed too? Yeah, that was it. So basically, that was how it went, and then I thought in the dream that it was the story of the fourth book, but of course it wasn’t. It was just before I saw the movie, I think. Anyway, my alarm clock keeps beeping every thirty seconds or something so I always stop typing thinking I’m done or something. But now there are two minutes left, it appears. Why is the default langauge on my Word set to Icelandic? Didn’t I type that earlier? Anyway, page two of two because I started writing notes for the Fanfiction Writer’s Challenge at Pokécommunity at the top of this document and this is just the second page and will be here temporarily until I post it in the thread. Geeze, I’m writing a lot. I think it’s more than anybody else wrote. But anyway, one minute left. Hmm, the Balance of Power has Shifted. It’s a pretty cool poster, but it’s got advertisements at the bottom of it and “Pokémon Emerald version” in the upper left corner. Now this has got to be over soon, yeah, it’s ten seconds, now it’s three, two one, done.
10th January 2006, 6:30 PM
Banana banana banana oh... Yes I am very random. I made that up my self. This keyboard has many buttons. Inclusing two that say open close. Interesting, as most don't. Maybe I should shut the door. It is very loud, for the TV is on. I like my new robe. I got it for christmas this year, duh. *hits self* What to write about... I'm running out of ideas. Which is supposed to be good, as I don't know what I will be typing. The TV is off now, good. Oops, typos... I'll leave it., Must...keep...typing... I am a rubbish touch typer. I try and I get my fingers in the wrong place, press the wrong buttons, and a turtle can walk faster. I write very fast without, except I have lots of typos. As you probably noticed. :P
New line, new start. I can't draw blasted 'and' symbols. These: &. I am rubbish at them, when ever I try it turns into a wonky eight. Ah, well, l guess practise makes perfecxt. I think I have been typing for a full five minutes, Woo, go me! I have three pairs of glasses nopw. My first set I needed to replace, one because I accidentaly sat on them and two, because my eye sight has changed. Again. So I got a further two more, The seconf set taking longer as they are coming from Denmark. I hads a very long flight from somewhere and got very jetlagged. I was lying on the couch with my glasses on and, what do you know. I feel asleep. The next day I find my glasses all wonky. I had slept on them, it seemed. Oh goody. My second pair arrived and I managed to get the other set fixed, which was lucky. I like my second pair. They are very light, made out of titanium. They don't dig into my ears. I don't like putting my glasses directly behid my ears, normally having a layer of hair between them. I get a little freaked out by me own viens. Silly, I know. I can stand all the blood and gore inmovies, but not my own. Well, I think my time is nearly up. I forgot too set an eggtimer, typical. We have two, though they are a little broken. One in the shape of a lemon that doesn't ring, the other is a strawberry that rings early. At least it actually goes off. I burnt a whole two plates of brownies because I forgot to check on them,, normal and white chocolate. The normal was beyond saving and we threw it all away, the white we could eat the center. That all, time up. :)
Very random, I know.
10th January 2006, 6:48 PM
I decided on a rough Pokemon draft. Here it is, it took 15 minutes.
It was a dark night, and a young boy was walking along the street. He was only around 10, he was small, but he was determined to fulfill his dream of getting a Pokemon. He had been walking around to think about what life would be like as a pokemon trainer. Would it be hard, or easy? For one, it was a very popular and fun thing to do, and he'd never been able to take care of anything, so he finallyt wanted something to call his own. But it was a dark world out there, where theifs and nasty people roamed looking for their next victim. Did he really want to leave home for this journey? His dad was a gym leader at a nearby gym. He was a pretty tough one, and every time he got to visit the gym, he saw him beating nearly everyone there. He was about to move house to a new region, to be closer to his dad's gym. His mum wanted him to become a trainer so he could follow in his father's footsteps, but he wasn't really that sure. Yes, there's pros, but there's cons too. Pokemon were fascinating creatures who lived nearly everywhere;he couldn't play in the grass with his mates without encountering a small purple rat or a small brown bird. He saw battles going on, and they looked really cool. But were battles the only things you could do with pokemon? If so, it'd be pretty boring. Could he compete against others to see who's pokemon looked the best? Could he just raise pokemon? What possiblilities were out there for him to do? He'd want to find a good thing to do if he got bored of battles.
He got to his house, walked through the door to be greeted by his mother and walked into his room. On his bed, on the pile of clothes his mother gave him was a brochure. t was of where he was moving. It was only a small town, but it was knwn for its kindness and helpfulness. He scanned the brochure and noticed there was a section about a few new types of battling only found there. He saw double battles, special rules battles, but the one that stood out the most was contests. Your pokemon could be raised to look beautiful, tough, smart, cute and...he couldn't tell the next one, as there were smudge stains on it. Suddenly, there was the sound of shattering glass. He ran downstairs as fast as his little legs could carry him, and outside, he saw his mum looking worried. The nearby lab was on fire! Fire engines were there as well as pokemon trainers. Suddenly, a loud screaming was heard.
"My husband and his aides are in there, as well as all the pokemon he was studying!" she said.
"It's OK, I'll rush in there and get them!" said a teenage boy. He was a legend around this region as the boy who conquered an evil team three years ago. He wore a red jacket, his navy blue hair came out in an oddly-shaped fringe, and he wore a red and white hat. He ran into the building, and moments later, came out with a tall professor with short hair. He ran inside again and came out with three aides. All the pokemon had already been transferred to a nearby pokemon center, as he could hear the voice of Nurse Joy.
"Thank you!" the tall professor told the boy. "You saved us!"
"No problem Professor, but who did this?" the boy asked.
"Well, there's rumors that it was the son of the gang you caused to disband," the professor said. "We'd best be heading off to a Pokemon center to check up on the pokemon"
The two males walked away out of sight. The boy walked back into his house.
"Mum, I've decided I want to be a co-ordinator and I want...I want to be like Gold"
10th January 2006, 9:10 PM
How the heck is everyone managing to do this without making spelling errors? I would think that when you're typing fast, your bound to make mistakes along the way, yet I see very few in most of them. What's all your secrets to typing fast and not making so many spelling mistakes? Are you people sure you're not using spell checkers?
10th January 2006, 9:50 PM
Who says you can't use a spellchecker? :P
I typed mine in Word, although as it says, the default language is Icelandic so it didn't actually spellcheck anything. But as it also says, I automatically correct while I type, and trying to stop myself from doing it requires additional thought, so I just let myself do it. o.o
10th January 2006, 10:16 PM
*Thinks* And go;
I'm soposed to write for 15 minutes nonstop. What shall I write about.. Must keep going.. Must not stop to think.. Hip Hop n ya don't stop.. 0_o.. This is so hard. I'll just write about my day. Well, today I went to school... Nothing unuasual about that... . .. But before that, I should tell you.. I go to a cathoic school. So, I forgot to dry my load of navy blue pants.. So I wait and wait *and think of more to write XD* I fall asleep waiting.. .And my moms car is being repaired so I have no ride to school. ;o *wrist cramp 3 minutes in* But then my grama takes me, an hour and a half late. I walk in and everyone sais hi.
"Thank god your here"
"Hey everyone, look whos here"
*Scary alien pops out*
*Slash* "Die alien"
"You saved me!"
*Old lady*"Make love to me!*
You know, the everyday things.. So then I go into class late.. "Sorry I'm late teach"
0h, no problem, anytime.. I know you are severly buissy.
"Thanks, won't happen again*Rolls eyes*"
Yep and this is where I'm stumped on what to write... . . . Okay so then I get on Nintendo WiFi to play some Mario Kart. *Suddenly most the world signs off* But then I get a challenger.. Topus.. Some guy with a Pot plant decal. He has 170 wins, 23 loses. I concider if I should race him or not.. But I'm feeling lucky. I accept. He gets his pick for the first level.. Mario Circuit 1.
"GOD DAMMIT" Its one of my worst levels.. He wins by at least 20 seconds, but does he just end it? No, he has to be a show off. He drifts in a circle and finishes backward. Oh ya, there was another racer but droped out this race.
10 to 7
Luck apparently wasn't with me, he also gets rainbow road.
"What the hell, its like he knows me!?" I do suprisingly well, but still lose.
20 to 12.
Yet again, he gets the level.. But, its not all that bad. Moo Moo Farm. I get the boost and he burns out. I get maybe a little too over-exited.. He gets me with a red shell and bumps me into a mole... I recover. I manage to get a star. I blow past him in the last lap to get 1st, and 10 points.
25 to 22
Scared, I pray. "God this has been intense... But please, lets win this one for me!.. And you"
AND IT PAYS OFF! It finally plays my level... BABY PARK. Even though he chose Deflino Square, which I'm awseume at too! So, I get the boost and start snaking like a cobra! I'm around the 2nd corner when I see an incoming shell.. AND I DODGE IT!
"Woohoo!" I get right back at it and even though he gets the spiny shell last match I still win.
30 to 32
And thats where I'm out of time.
10th January 2006, 10:43 PM
Ahh the things people make up on the fly. Makes you wonder about our sanuity or lack thereof. I think I might do another one sooner or later. Need to get the juiced flowing but right now it's fun to watch everyone rant and rave about stuff.
11th January 2006, 12:06 AM
Okay, this is the crappiest thing I've ever written (excluding my first fic). I didn't pause for anything so you'll have to excuse all my grammatical and/or spelling errors. I also managed to write it thanks to IceKing's encouragement. :3
So here's what I wrote...x_x
It was in that moment when I felt that my life had finally ended. It wasn’t that childish fear that most people feel when they’re walking down a dark street, or feeling as if someone was watching them and preparing to strike. No – those were childish, unfounded fears that soon pass and fade into the darkest abyss of your mind, This was real…there was no happy ending for me…no one to save me…no one to hide me and protect me from the hideous monstrosity that was in front of me. I tried to escape it of course. It’s one of those moments where you feel you have to fight with all your spirit or die in the most dishonorable way. I stumbled backwards over glass and pieces of ruined metal, and I fell back with a resounding crash. A sticky, warm feeling soon coated my head, and the horrible being still kept going forward. My demon was a girl. Its eyes white, unblinking…dead and I was entranced by them, hypnotized by it yet my heart seemed to freeze by the malevolence that was reflected in them. I knew suddenly, why I was still watching her so intently even though I tried to scream and escape from her with all my might. I saw all my life flashing across those dull eyes and how horrible my death would be. It was in that moment when I felt everything paralyzing my senses and I succumbed to her wishes.
11th January 2006, 12:25 AM
Here's my ten minute fling at the excercise, non corrected of course. If you're wondering, this entire passage is a metaphor :D
The enveloping strands of the Wishsong wove excitedly as the lone, cloaked figure mirrored the sonds all about, lacing them with magic and watching as all about him grew prosperously. Grass splintered through the cracked mood of the desert, dormant shoots blooming happily from their hibernation. Starved vultures above squauked happily as the strange melody soothed their aching muscles and brightened their black plumage with a glossy white shine. Beside them, flew the eagles, flying on the soft glow of magic. All about the stranger, the once barren land grew at an exagerrated pace, hinting at a past glory long faded.
These beautiful lands, ancient home of the Rock Trolls and Gnomes, had been blighted by the spirit world until it was naught but open swathes of desert punctuated rudely by sudden sharp peaks of sharp, forbidding red rock. But all the suffering of the land seemed a distant memory in the presence of the life giving druid. A faint smilled tugged at his shadowed face, teeth shining a blinding white in the strong sunshine. All would be renewed.
11th January 2006, 12:35 AM
I used to idea of the prologue to a fic I may or may not write. Its not nearly as bad or crude as this one shows XD
T’was a fairy tale world that he had fallen into. The world was black and white, completely devoid of any color at all. Life too, no life as well. The shapes seemed to distort as he walked across the room, yelling but finding no voice coming out. His feet seemed to glide carelessly as he glided across the room, lokoing for a way out or another human in site. He was definitely in some sort of a laboratory, with medical instruments and old files thrown asunder. More gruesome things scattered the room such as blood stains on the walls and bones that cracked under his feeet as he slowly glided, hearing a voice in the dim background. Their were two voices, one male and one female. They were yelling fiercely, arguing to no end. Coming closer, he began to hear their words.
“There is no way this project will come to an end like this! How can I put all these years of research and millions of dollars to waste??? Two of the twenty subjects survived! They are the greatest scientific innovations in a hundred years! I cannot possibly get rid of them!”
“It matters not Elhossa, you must get rid of them RIGHT NOW! This project never existed, and it shall remain that way all this life. Enough information has already been leaked, we must destroy the laboratory now!”
“I CANNOT LEAVE THIS INCOMPLETE….”
Their screaming began to mutter down as this strange dream world began to slip and melt away, changing shape and distorting. The white walls had changed to concrete and dirty walls and the floor was nothing much tiles, stained with urine and feces. It was a very filthy room, lit only by a tiny bulb hanging in the center of the ceiling. In the very corner lay a tiny, hard bed, with a small boy laying on it.
His skin looked as if it handt been washed in years, as if it almost was repulsed by water itself. It was a dirty orange color, but what was more interesting was the marks on his face. They were brown and seeped to glow everyfew seconds. He was wasted down to ribs and bones as he silently snored, sleeping somewhat snuggly in his one piece grey uniform and hard bed. From the other corner of the room, was a similar looking female girl. She looked just like him except for the fact that she had dark blue hair that fell to her cheekbones. She also wore the same drab gray uniform. Her eyes were bright purple, staring into a seemingly endless void in front of her. Her arms were wrapped around her knees and she rocked back and forth, dully awaiting the time to pass in her monotonouse life.
Suddenly, the silence that filled the room was immediately broken. From outside a great roar was heard, it was a woman bickering and cursing as she made a good deal of effort as she stamped forward into the room. In her hand she held a tiny bottle containing a very dark liquid. Immediately, she marched over to the dirty bed and tossed the equally dirty boy off. As his head painfully cracked against the wall, his purple eyes immediately snapped open. He looked around in confusion, still partially asleep before he felt the womans foot stamp down into his arm.
“OWW!” he cried as he cradled his bleeding fingers. His sister immediately leapt to her feet and ran forward, desperate to protect her brother from the evil woman they called “Mother” though she shared not a signel drop of blood with her.
Her face was normally beautiful, but tarnished with rage and fury that appeared in her shaking eyes and bared teeth. She held the small boy up by his throat against the wall as she slowly uncorcked the bottle of serum with one finger.
He shook in her grip as she brought the dark serum to his lips, eagerly awaiting to shove it down his throats. The little girl couldn’t stand by and watch however as she ran forward and pulled on the woman’s lab coat beggingly. The malevolent woman took this by surprise and turned around looking at the crying, pleading girl. Turning back the girl though nervously before sinking her teeth into the woman’s abdomen.
She let out a fierce cry of pain as she clutched her aching side, dropping both boy and serum. The bottle immediately shattered as it made contact with the floor, the liquid burning and searing as it slowly evaporated away. The scientist looked in horror and the remnants of the bottle before slapping the girl numerously. She tried to run as fast as she could, but had no where to hide and the scientist began to beat her calling her ****bag and other foul words. At last, she stopped asssualting the poor child before shaking vehemently in her spot.
“Damn it, I wanted to let you two off easily, but you ruined that chance. You’re nothing but worthless failures, pieces of ****! I shall make sure you suffer like your elder brother did!”
She marched out of the room and slammed the door tightly behind her. The girl rushed to her brother, who was bleeding profusely by his hairline. They both held each other closely and began to cry, fearfully awaiting “Mothers” return. They had been abused many times but never had they heard her like this.
At last, they heard the footsteps come in slowly, as the door slightly moved ajar. In the mad woman’s hands was a large, heavy rusted hammer. The handle was as thick as an Ekans and made of pure steel while it ended in a very large block of fierce looking iron, coated in the black substance they learned to fear. The two began to shudder and quiver with fear as she came in closer and closer, smiling malevolently, ready to take her anger out once and for all.
“Please…please….I don’t want to die like Jared….please….”
Her blood was the first to splatter on the walls.
11th January 2006, 3:44 AM
I decide to write non-stop on paper instead of typing it. Typing is so bad for me to do I thought I'll do better on plain paper but I know I'm making mistakes
What only 1 minute has pass? I guess I have to keep writing. The time seem to move so slowly as I'm stuck in a non-stop writing excise. Um... I'm change the the subject again aren't I? Well that what happens when I don't stop and reread.
Cat I like cats that the only thing I could think of without stopping to think. I wonder how a cat will feel if it was sudden sucked into a dismension worm hole and was bought right smack in the middle of the pokemon world? She looks the same and yet she has powers.
And what if her meows were insult to mewoth in pokemon languages she then force to run for them and avoid there attacks to survive. That be unfortane for that poor kitten
What I 7 minutes in well I guess I have to talk about something else should it be about the cat who get stuck in to the pokemon world or something new? My hand it getting tired as random thought start coming through my mind
What if you were bought to the world of pokemon? Would act cool or would you fear for your life? I mean your in a place wheree animals are hyped up on superpowerful elemental attacks. I don't know if that last sentence made much sense but really how would you feel?
Oh my I 4 minutes over 15 minutes I really need I real timer I guess I'll go to twenty minutes or may be I should just stop now. Since my hand it kill me indiretly telling me to stop but refuse to and I keep on writing despie my pain in my hand and my time is up right now.
Wow that was hard... I did it on paper because I couldn't stop pressing the backspace on my keyboard. I just couldn't continue going every time I pressed the wrong button and I knew my word was spelled wrong. So I did it on paper though it was a really pain to my hand. But I did it so yeah to me!!! ^__^
11th January 2006, 9:41 AM
Good writing exercise for me...
In a Moment, Everything can change...
Feel the Wind on your shoulders
The world had changed so quickly... I was shocked... The wind blew against me... And what a wonderful feeling it gave me as I felt it on my shoulders.
For a Minute, All the world can wait...
Let go of your Yesterday...
I had to let go of my past.... Yes... Just for a minute... The world can wait while I forget about it... Yes... Just forget about it...
Clear my mind... I can do it....
Can you hear it coming?
Can you feel it in your soul?
Can you trust this longing?
And take control!
The voice of a car...
I heard it...
I closed my eyes, relaxing...
Breathing in and out...
I trusted my guts, my instincts...
As the car rushed at me, trying to break, but unfortunately couldn't.
Wings sprouted from my back, just like an angel...
I flapped my wings and sored in the air... Wanting to fly to the heavens and live there....
That fine? Not too sure about it... Dunno why I did it though...
11th January 2006, 2:55 PM
Yanno, I doubt whether everyone here's actually writing nonstop for so long. Oh well.
Chica chica. Yanno, I don't get this laugh is sooo. weir,d ay yah,m ion. Oh great, now I'm writing wrong. If you'll exciusee me, let me check.
Ioka. Ile oennoe lajie meww writing is so werid wehenn you aren't paying attention to eaither the screen or the bedyaple wheot eat the same time, ha nknno?
Let's sseee.... can I stop fwirting so badly? please? I even forgot what I wars gonna write about?
Oh, yeah, 'membered.
I thkn ghaat the problem is that I have a poor lapes of concentration for dozens of tstthh.. suttfff. stuff. done that/ good. Stupdi shift for not wroking.
Anywayr, I am bored and now I'm gonna complain about how people seem to write cool all the time but not me. I mean, I am probably at the same leve as sa much people here!!! Pelase geive me a break!
This is Soujiro, by the way. Seijiro is busy dringking sfor the salmon. Hey, we passed on college!
Letsesesletseltestes.... I'm soupposed to write for fiftieeen meinutes or not? I wrote lso far fou.r
Chika chika chika. Or is it kekekeke. O man, I forgot my laugh! akghoehbnvaioegnoisrsaefihae,. Thats's my awesome laugh.
Oh, can I stop posting now? No? oh watherver.
Chickens are werid. Then again, people are weriderd. Whee for philosophy!
Let's see... oh, complain about authors. Fine. Yanno, I keep wondering what's the deal with the spescial people... why is it that thye neecccessarily need to get five starts to be happy? I mean, I write as well as I can (with the needed edits, of course, otherwise, Seij fwould be angry), but I don't get any good cretdi.t This shikocs. Man, complaining is fun!
Lessseeee.... lesssseeeee.... oh, I remember! storpe repoealretndt
Ik anct dfoentaoeiafjeopgalmaeineneoafjeojenn
Oh, it's been..... seven minutes now.
Chjka chikca chikca!!!
Has anyone ever played Legend of the River King? I mean, REALLY played that game? I don't get it.
Am I supposed to be serious here? Oh well.
I want toilet paper!
I got stuff on my head. It's called pineapplejuiced mixed with brains. SHUT UP, JACK!!!!
Okay, le't ss sseee.... I gots me a bout.... eight minutes? No, seven.
You lose, two hundred points...
U nieed to stop peressing enter so much. It's mbuongeeing. bym imnid.
Lions are weird.
Stop pressing enter!!!
Oy vey. Am, I supposed to keep writing? I forgot. I got too tired travelling abkc. to this stupid cold beach. Have you guys ever heard of cold beaches? I hadn't I until I have first gotten here. It's still cold.
Oh, time to complain! Wghy do we have tese reating stuffs? It's useless, fi you ask me. Doesn't it depedn to mmuch on poeples's ofpiningons?
Oh well, it keeps those authors happy, which means it probably sucks. I'm drunk with the keyborad.
Four minutes lasting!!!
I can't keep my mind in plaice. Can you?
Asperger was cool.
Stop perressing enter dangint!
Oh cak. Now to get serious... wha't sup with the stupid joursneys that people do that are supposed to be in self-enlightemnvent but that do nouthing at talll?
Sele..t noelent poernenowek,.
Setupid ptotls. confuses me.
Sleek people are werid.
Can I be wired?
How acn i post without even staring at the keyboard, yet when I look at the keypboard I can't do it?
Chika, chi,a, cihka!!!!
I am supposed to complain about something...
Oh well, I'm, done hiere. Seeya!
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