I wake up and look at the clock as I always do. 9:14, the number burned into my retinas due to the contrast between the thick blanket of darkness that seemed to cover the adjacent wall. I tacked three black sheets over my window so I didn't have to wake up to a blinding shower of sunlight, which is always a problem when you live on the 14th floor of a shabby apartment building in downtown Seattle. I live here for the rain, nothing more, nothing less.
The strength to get ready found me a few minutes later. I get up from my bed and head for the bathroom. A bunch of shit is cluttered everywhere, most notably the shower since I live with three roommates, all of them being guys. I wash my face, brush my teeth, and pop a synthroid before I look in the mirror. I was born with an inactive thyroid, which really sucks because I need to take a tiny pink pill for the rest of my life and there is nothing that the miracles of modern medicine can do for me. It's amazing that they can make artificial hearts, but they can't give me an apparatus that gives me my daily dose of whatever my thyroid is supposed to supply by itself. I keep staring at myself in the mirror, analyzing my features, admiring how much of a piece of shit I am.
I am 22 (23 this December). I have a huge mop of dark brown hair that I hate with a passion, but I tolerate it since it compliments my huge face, my squinty eyes, and my pursed lips. I am an ugly motherfucker and everyone knows it, but I can make myself look semi-decent if I put a little effort into it.
I begin to scold my appearance in the mirror. "You fat faggot. Look at you. How can you live with yourself? How do you accept this day after day and you don't do shit about it? You know what girls look for in a guy, they don't just like a guy who cares about them anymore. Justin Bieber is a little queer, but he's got pre-teen girls all over him. I hate you, go kill yourself."
I verbally abuse myself, mostly to cope with the fact that everything I say is true, but also to make due with the fact that if I tell myself this in advance, if anyone does try to bring me down, they can't push me below the surface of the ocean of empathy I supply myself with every morning; I become invincible, one of the only powers I have.
And then Gandalf walked in with his pompous majesty. "Get out of here, you piece of shit. I need to piss." He dons a soiled white wifebeater and a pair of Husky sweatpants. Gandalf is a huge UW fan and he never misses a game and if the Huskies lose, he throws the biggest fit you can imagine. His rage manifests itself in a hurricane of thrashing, swearing, and, ultimately, self mutilation.
I get out of the bathroom because, you know, I'm a piece of shit.
Pg. 2
My stomach growled with hunger. I rarely ate breakfast because we usually didn't have enough cereal, mostly due to the fact that a good sum of my money is spent on liquor and music. I may be only 22, but I've become a fervent alcohol connoisseur. I was by no means a drunk, but I loved alcohol, especially Crown Royal. I kept all my Crown Royal bags in a drawer in my closet, using four of them for coins (I always give my pennies and nickels to the homeless). I make it a point to never match purchases with change because I admire the feeling of having a large amount of coins. I never figured out why. I stumbled my way towards the kitchen. Gandalf did the liberty of leaving his mess strewn about the kitchen counter.
"Jesus christ, what the fuck?" I muttered under my breath. He was never good at cleaning up after himself, but, as I was concerned about the overall image of the apartment, I cleaned it up without resentment. I always thought it best not to complain since I've experienced firsthand the consequences of complaining. It was one of the key factors in my parents' divorce. Their marriage had gotten to the point where the only thing they could talk about were eachother's faults.
I poured a mug of coffee and threw some bread in the toaster. I figured I'd clean the mess later, the morning was too young. I walked over to the TV and flipped through the channels until I reached Comedy Central. Some black guy was doing a stand up routine, so I watched it. I have always liked black comedy, it felt really authentic. I don't care for black music at all though, the only exceptions being good R&B and a couple minutes of jazz.
Gandalf came walking down the hall at the same time Samwise came walking out of his room. Samwise was a good, honest guy. He always made a point to treat others with respect, even if they didn't return the favor. He was very humble and brought a warm air with him wherever he went. Gandalf saw Sam coming out of his room and blocked him.
"You shall not pass", Gandalf said. He would always do this shit when he was in a bad mood. Sam looked up at him with an obvious look of defeat. "Come on, Gandalf, not right now", he pleaded. Gandalf stooped down to Sam's eye level. Gandalf was easily 6' 5" while Sam couldn't have been four feet tall if he dreamed. "How about no?"
"Gandalf, just let him go", I called down the hallway. Sam deserved much better treatment than Gandalf gave him. Gandalf looked at me, realized his fault, and let Sam slip by into the living room. The thing was that the Huskies lost the other night, a key match that would've surely catapulted them to a cup game, and Gandalf always had a bitter mood after an ill-fated Huskies game. He was a very nice guy when UW was on a winning streak and I've tried talking to him about his emotional dependence on the team, but he always changed the subject.
"Thanks, Azriel", Sam said as he took a seat next to me on the couch.
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I hate the way you cling to ignorance and pass it off as innocence
Is this the story that you're making to repeat "My Immortal" but in your own way and form?
It kind of looks like that. We need more to base off of though, as so far it looks more like someone locked up all their anger and hatred for themselves and wrote it down for all to read.
Sorry if this is true.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
It's all been said. The pun, the not so funny joke, the phrase, something about oneself, the not so random picture.
Is this the story that you're making to repeat "My Immortal" but in your own way and form?
Yeah. It's going to be much better though. A solid plot, some good humor, and a worthwhile experience.
We need more to base off of though, as so far it looks more like someone locked up all their anger and hatred for themselves and wrote it down for all to read.
I'm trying to make a self-loathing character. The only things that I have in common with this character are the hair (I love my hair) and the hypothyroidism.
And I'm experimenting with plot development. If you remember Harry Potter, the beginning doesn't have much of a lead into anything. I'm trying to recreate that same sense of... anticipation, kinda.
It's all in my head, it'll make sense later.
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I hate the way you cling to ignorance and pass it off as innocence
Good intro. It helps set the story/setting/mood without givng anything away. Great character development. Your intro reminds me of a dark comedy-esque feel where you watch the main character getting ready for a solid 5 minutes as you watch just how much he hates his life with every step he makes.
My only critique is that I assume you are purposely writing it in present tense. However, there are a few times you switch to past tense.
Great work and keep it up.
BTW, do you want me to move this to "other" fan fic section?
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Could you conveniently rename these "Page 1" and "Page 2"? I know that the subject is changed quite a bit and that's why it's a new chapter but it's too little to read to be called a chapter imho.
And maybe put it in the OP for convenience as well.
I have a neutral feeling towards this so far, If it were a real book, I would read on from this point. You just haven't caught me, but you haven't gone so far as to detract me.
I'm curious about other's opinions on this.
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It's all been said. The pun, the not so funny joke, the phrase, something about oneself, the not so random picture.
Anyway I'm keeping my 'comments' on this story until Az writes up some more. Just giving it a chance really because up till now it simply looks like angry-emo-kid rant.
But who knows, it could drastically change and have some relevancy to its title other than being a failed parody.
Eh...did I say I was keeping my comments? I guess not.
Point is, Az got a good writing style and is sufficiently creative so as to expect way better stuff from him.
Dunno what this thing here is about really. His mind seem to have been poisoned by that Harry Potter fanfic but never mind that.
That's why I said Voldemort and flying rein deers would totally rock that shit.
I've just been writing all my pages in a word document so I can upload them. I'm trying to fine tune them to make them feel more progressive.
The motive behind the first part was to let you get a glimpse inside the character's head and let you know that he's pretty mad. I hardly identify with him, I don't find myself to be angry at much anymore. But a lot of this story is for me, but that's going to become apparent later.
I was driven to write this because of My Immortal, but as I kept thinking about it, I figured it could be something other than that. It's reflection, but it's definitely not attached to my present.
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I hate the way you cling to ignorance and pass it off as innocence
Well if you have so much that is already laid out, this LOTR theme makes me even more perplex.
Was it really required of you to include these characters that don't seem to fit at all in there(except for Azriel)? If this bastardization was at least funny, it would have been entertaining I guess.
What I mean by that is that you picked a recognizable title with defined chars, so in all likeliness people drawn to this fanfic probably know all about LOTR. Whether Gandalf as a 'huge UW fan and...his rage manifests itself in a hurricane of thrashing, swearing, and, ultimately, self mutilation.' will entertain people, I truly doubt. But maybe that's just me.
What's UW, by the way?
Anyway, keep on writing.
Like I previously said- I hope it eventually makes sense, my precious.
UW is the University of Washington located in Seattle.
I guess that I'll just spill the beans and say that this is an epic adventure set in modern day Seattle. Every other character from the LotR series comes into play at one point or another and while some stay candid to their character (the Hobbits), the others have been corrupted, in some way, by modern day American society and its expectations. Some characters have much bigger roles than others, trust me. This is inspired by that other piece of shit fanfic, but it's not following it by any means. I'm taking this a lot more seriously, but I'm still having a bit of fun with it.
I may go back and edit some parts out though since, admittedly, most of them were incomplete thoughts that I had to make work because I felt that they were either vital or I thought I could make them work.
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I hate the way you cling to ignorance and pass it off as innocence
Guys, I'm sorry to say that I haven't been able to get much done since my last update.
So, as soon as I can get a lot of free time under my belt, I am putting this on hiatus.
Fret not, there will be more. This is my official statement.
Edit:
Page 3
I flipped through the channels once again, trying to find something suitable for both Sam and I to watch. He didn't watch a lot of television, shrugging a lot of shows off as "boring" or "repetitive." For those reasons alone, he partook to the news and History channel a majority of the time.
We eventually started watching a History channel documentary on the KKK. It was good for a laugh, although not on the premise that what the KKK did was funny, but funny that we could never see ourselves being that cold-hearted and ass backward about anything, especially concerning race. Living in Seattle, it was hard not to be a racist considering that there were minorities from every corner of the world (like most metropolitan areas). Plus, we just never put ourselves on pedestals.
Gandalf wandered over and took a seat in his lounger. His favorite thing in the whole apartment was a suede recliner that he won at an auction house. The chair was monstrous in size compared to his old, gaunt frame, but a certain quality about him made it work out somehow; it's like they were made for each other.
It was only then when I noticed the time. "Shit, fuck, I gotta get to work." I worked as a manager at a nearby Taco Time; nothing I'm particularly proud of, but it gives me my means at around $15 an hour.
"Could you give me a lift to Mr. Frodo's place, Azriel," asked Sam. "Sure, bro." I grabbed my necessities (my Zune, my coffee, and my Musician's Friend catalog) and headed out the door, Sam trailing shortly behind as he tried to find his jacket.
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I hate the way you cling to ignorance and pass it off as innocence
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Chapter 1
I wake up and look at the clock as I always do. 9:14, the number burned into my retinas due to the contrast between the thick blanket of darkness that seemed to cover the adjacent wall. I tacked three black sheets over my window so I didn't have to wake up to a blinding shower of sunlight, which is always a problem when you live on the 14th floor of a shabby apartment building in downtown Seattle. I live here for the rain, nothing more, nothing less.
The strength to get ready found me a few minutes later. I get up from my bed and head for the bathroom. A bunch of shit is cluttered everywhere, most notably the shower since I live with three roommates, all of them being guys. I wash my face, brush my teeth, and pop a synthroid before I look in the mirror. I was born with an inactive thyroid, which really sucks because I need to take a tiny pink pill for the rest of my life and there is nothing that the miracles of modern medicine can do for me. It's amazing that they can make artificial hearts, but they can't give me an apparatus that gives me my daily dose of whatever my thyroid is supposed to supply by itself. I keep staring at myself in the mirror, analyzing my features, admiring how much of a piece of shit I am.
I am 22 (23 this December). I have a huge mop of dark brown hair that I hate with a passion, but I tolerate it since it compliments my huge face, my squinty eyes, and my pursed lips. I am an ugly motherfucker and everyone knows it, but I can make myself look semi-decent if I put a little effort into it.
I begin to scold my appearance in the mirror. "You fat faggot. Look at you. How can you live with yourself? How do you accept this day after day and you don't do shit about it? You know what girls look for in a guy, they don't just like a guy who cares about them anymore. Justin Bieber is a little queer, but he's got pre-teen girls all over him. I hate you, go kill yourself."
I verbally abuse myself, mostly to cope with the fact that everything I say is true, but also to make due with the fact that if I tell myself this in advance, if anyone does try to bring me down, they can't push me below the surface of the ocean of empathy I supply myself with every morning; I become invincible, one of the only powers I have.
And then Gandalf walked in with his pompous majesty. "Get out of here, you piece of shit. I need to piss." He dons a soiled white wifebeater and a pair of Husky sweatpants. Gandalf is a huge UW fan and he never misses a game and if the Huskies lose, he throws the biggest fit you can imagine. His rage manifests itself in a hurricane of thrashing, swearing, and, ultimately, self mutilation.
I get out of the bathroom because, you know, I'm a piece of shit.
Pg. 2
My stomach growled with hunger. I rarely ate breakfast because we usually didn't have enough cereal, mostly due to the fact that a good sum of my money is spent on liquor and music. I may be only 22, but I've become a fervent alcohol connoisseur. I was by no means a drunk, but I loved alcohol, especially Crown Royal. I kept all my Crown Royal bags in a drawer in my closet, using four of them for coins (I always give my pennies and nickels to the homeless). I make it a point to never match purchases with change because I admire the feeling of having a large amount of coins. I never figured out why. I stumbled my way towards the kitchen. Gandalf did the liberty of leaving his mess strewn about the kitchen counter.
"Jesus christ, what the fuck?" I muttered under my breath. He was never good at cleaning up after himself, but, as I was concerned about the overall image of the apartment, I cleaned it up without resentment. I always thought it best not to complain since I've experienced firsthand the consequences of complaining. It was one of the key factors in my parents' divorce. Their marriage had gotten to the point where the only thing they could talk about were eachother's faults.
I poured a mug of coffee and threw some bread in the toaster. I figured I'd clean the mess later, the morning was too young. I walked over to the TV and flipped through the channels until I reached Comedy Central. Some black guy was doing a stand up routine, so I watched it. I have always liked black comedy, it felt really authentic. I don't care for black music at all though, the only exceptions being good R&B and a couple minutes of jazz.
Gandalf came walking down the hall at the same time Samwise came walking out of his room. Samwise was a good, honest guy. He always made a point to treat others with respect, even if they didn't return the favor. He was very humble and brought a warm air with him wherever he went. Gandalf saw Sam coming out of his room and blocked him.
"You shall not pass", Gandalf said. He would always do this shit when he was in a bad mood. Sam looked up at him with an obvious look of defeat. "Come on, Gandalf, not right now", he pleaded. Gandalf stooped down to Sam's eye level. Gandalf was easily 6' 5" while Sam couldn't have been four feet tall if he dreamed. "How about no?"
"Gandalf, just let him go", I called down the hallway. Sam deserved much better treatment than Gandalf gave him. Gandalf looked at me, realized his fault, and let Sam slip by into the living room. The thing was that the Huskies lost the other night, a key match that would've surely catapulted them to a cup game, and Gandalf always had a bitter mood after an ill-fated Huskies game. He was a very nice guy when UW was on a winning streak and I've tried talking to him about his emotional dependence on the team, but he always changed the subject.
"Thanks, Azriel", Sam said as he took a seat next to me on the couch.
I hate the way you cling to ignorance and pass it off as innocence
It kind of looks like that. We need more to base off of though, as so far it looks more like someone locked up all their anger and hatred for themselves and wrote it down for all to read.
Sorry if this is true.
Yeah. It's going to be much better though. A solid plot, some good humor, and a worthwhile experience.
I'm trying to make a self-loathing character. The only things that I have in common with this character are the hair (I love my hair) and the hypothyroidism.
And I'm experimenting with plot development. If you remember Harry Potter, the beginning doesn't have much of a lead into anything. I'm trying to recreate that same sense of... anticipation, kinda.
It's all in my head, it'll make sense later.
I hate the way you cling to ignorance and pass it off as innocence
Anyway I hope there's Voldemort and flying reindeers in that story or it won't make any sense, you know.
My only critique is that I assume you are purposely writing it in present tense. However, there are a few times you switch to past tense.
Great work and keep it up.
BTW, do you want me to move this to "other" fan fic section?
Find any Diablo news? Contact me or anyone else on the News team
That'd be cool.
And Merry Christmas everybody.
I hate the way you cling to ignorance and pass it off as innocence
I look forward to reading some more.
Find any Diablo news? Contact me or anyone else on the News team
I hate the way you cling to ignorance and pass it off as innocence
And maybe put it in the OP for convenience as well.
I have a neutral feeling towards this so far, If it were a real book, I would read on from this point. You just haven't caught me, but you haven't gone so far as to detract me.
I'm curious about other's opinions on this.
And I do like your suggestions...
Done.
So am I, but this thread is tucked into the netherregions of the forum. Might have to put a link in my signature...
I hate the way you cling to ignorance and pass it off as innocence
Maybe you could get some bribes through to get it into Off-Topic or Gen Discussion. But still put the link in either way.
Edit:
This is why it was put into this part of the forum, amirite?
TrollQuote? Amidoinitrite?
Nasty trollsss. Zey shood juss goe avay.
Anyway I'm keeping my 'comments' on this story until Az writes up some more. Just giving it a chance really because up till now it simply looks like angry-emo-kid rant.
But who knows, it could drastically change and have some relevancy to its title other than being a failed parody.
Eh...did I say I was keeping my comments? I guess not.
Point is, Az got a good writing style and is sufficiently creative so as to expect way better stuff from him.
Dunno what this thing here is about really. His mind seem to have been poisoned by that Harry Potter fanfic but never mind that.
That's why I said Voldemort and flying rein deers would totally rock that shit.
The motive behind the first part was to let you get a glimpse inside the character's head and let you know that he's pretty mad. I hardly identify with him, I don't find myself to be angry at much anymore. But a lot of this story is for me, but that's going to become apparent later.
I was driven to write this because of My Immortal, but as I kept thinking about it, I figured it could be something other than that. It's reflection, but it's definitely not attached to my present.
I hate the way you cling to ignorance and pass it off as innocence
Was it really required of you to include these characters that don't seem to fit at all in there(except for Azriel)? If this bastardization was at least funny, it would have been entertaining I guess.
What I mean by that is that you picked a recognizable title with defined chars, so in all likeliness people drawn to this fanfic probably know all about LOTR. Whether Gandalf as a 'huge UW fan and...his rage manifests itself in a hurricane of thrashing, swearing, and, ultimately, self mutilation.' will entertain people, I truly doubt. But maybe that's just me.
What's UW, by the way?
Anyway, keep on writing.
Like I previously said- I hope it eventually makes sense, my precious.
I guess that I'll just spill the beans and say that this is an epic adventure set in modern day Seattle. Every other character from the LotR series comes into play at one point or another and while some stay candid to their character (the Hobbits), the others have been corrupted, in some way, by modern day American society and its expectations. Some characters have much bigger roles than others, trust me. This is inspired by that other piece of shit fanfic, but it's not following it by any means. I'm taking this a lot more seriously, but I'm still having a bit of fun with it.
I may go back and edit some parts out though since, admittedly, most of them were incomplete thoughts that I had to make work because I felt that they were either vital or I thought I could make them work.
I hate the way you cling to ignorance and pass it off as innocence
You better deliver, bitch.
Shit happens, but I'll probably be able to upload later this week.
UPDATE 1/25/11: Temporarily postponed until next week. Finals week, won't be able to get shit done.
I hate the way you cling to ignorance and pass it off as innocence
:sad:
So, as soon as I can get a lot of free time under my belt, I am putting this on hiatus.
Fret not, there will be more. This is my official statement.
Edit:
Page 3
I flipped through the channels once again, trying to find something suitable for both Sam and I to watch. He didn't watch a lot of television, shrugging a lot of shows off as "boring" or "repetitive." For those reasons alone, he partook to the news and History channel a majority of the time.
We eventually started watching a History channel documentary on the KKK. It was good for a laugh, although not on the premise that what the KKK did was funny, but funny that we could never see ourselves being that cold-hearted and ass backward about anything, especially concerning race. Living in Seattle, it was hard not to be a racist considering that there were minorities from every corner of the world (like most metropolitan areas). Plus, we just never put ourselves on pedestals.
Gandalf wandered over and took a seat in his lounger. His favorite thing in the whole apartment was a suede recliner that he won at an auction house. The chair was monstrous in size compared to his old, gaunt frame, but a certain quality about him made it work out somehow; it's like they were made for each other.
It was only then when I noticed the time. "Shit, fuck, I gotta get to work." I worked as a manager at a nearby Taco Time; nothing I'm particularly proud of, but it gives me my means at around $15 an hour.
"Could you give me a lift to Mr. Frodo's place, Azriel," asked Sam. "Sure, bro." I grabbed my necessities (my Zune, my coffee, and my Musician's Friend catalog) and headed out the door, Sam trailing shortly behind as he tried to find his jacket.
I hate the way you cling to ignorance and pass it off as innocence