Vigil StarGazer

I like how clean this poem is. It invokes the strongest imagry and thoughts with the shortest and simpliest words and lines. There's no one excess and nothing more needs to be added. This is indeed a work of a mature poet. Very well done.

The poem opens with a very powerful imagary that draws the reader in. The poem is indeed very emotional and strong, especially with the way the poem itself is structured; short meters and stress in key wordings making this work very powerful when recited. It's definately a good read.

A young man managed to find an apartment in new city, and on the first day of moving in he met a really really cute girl. Maybe the guy wasn't so naive because he knew from the way she looked at him that she's trouble. She was engaged with her boyfriend and already the superintendent was trying to get her. However she was instantly attracted to the new guy and the guy being in a new city was awful lonely. She hang out with the new guy mostly to pissed the superintendent off. However as the saying goes if you chase away rats with cats, you'll be left with cats which assume would be a bigger problem. Eventually the superintendent was reassigned to another housing complex, but not before he made one last attempt at her which she bluntly refused. The guy was gone and the new guy's usefulness has ended. She tried to give the new guy a chance, and asked him what's the deal. He either misunderstood the question, or just aren't sure of his feelings. She interpreted that as the new guy was trying to pull the same trick. She thought he was just another player taking advantage of her and started to distance from him. The new guy tried to retain the same level of intamacy with her but she shriek him away. He tried to be friends then and was ignored. So in the end the new guy, still confused, gave up reaching out for her. It wasn't until one day she totally screwed up something and everyone else in the building suffered because of that. All her friendly neighbours turned against her. The new guy didn't thou. Instead he patched things up for her and helped her when she needed it most. He told her that no matter what happens he'll always take care of her. Little did she realized then, that she loved him all along and needed him the most. However it was too late... too too late. Her wedding was coming soon and she already interviewed and got accepted to another job. By the time the not-so-new guy heard the news she already handed her lease termination notice. He rushed into her unit at once. "So I've heard that you are leaving." "yeah, I'm leaving this place." Her faced was glued to the TV, not daring to face him. "I want to talk to you." "About what?" She said. "You know.... we are no strangers to love...." he managed to mutter. "Yeah, Well you know the rules and so do I." Her cooled words tried to supressed any emotion for him. "A full commitment is what I'm thinking," her thoughts are a silent whisper. "But I don't think I'll get this from any other guy." Silence. "I ..... just want to tell you what I'm feeling." His words became a torrant of emotions. "Gotta make you understand... never gonna give you up; Never gonna let you down! Never gonna run around and desert you. Never gonna make you cry; Never gonna say goodbyeeeee. Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you!" … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … FYI, You all got rick-rolled. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rickrolled or http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RSsJ19sy3JI

On that note Maybe we should start a facebook group... It'll be ultra cool and will bring us closer together

Everybody’s Business Lessons in Love, by Way of Economics Sign In to E-Mail or Save This Print Reprints Share Linkedin Digg Facebook Mixx Yahoo! Buzz Permalink By BEN STEIN Published: July 13, 2008 AS my fine professor of economics at Columbia, C. Lowell Harriss (who just celebrated his 96th birthday) used to tell us, economics is the study of the allocation of scarce goods and services. What could be scarcer or more precious than love? It is rare, hard to come by and often fragile. Skip to next paragraph Philip Anderson My primary life study has been about love. Second comes economics, so here, in the form of a few rules, is a little amalgam of the two fields: the economics of love. (I last wrote about this subject 20 years or so ago, and it’s time to update it.) • In general, and with rare exceptions, the returns in love situations are roughly proportional to the amount of time and devotion invested. The amount of love you get from an investment in love is correlated, if only roughly, to the amount of yourself you invest in the relationship. If you invest caring, patience and unselfishness, you get those things back. (This assumes, of course, that you are having a relationship with someone who loves you, and not a one-sided love affair with someone who isn’t interested.) • High-quality bonds consistently yield more return than junk, and so it is with high-quality love. As for the returns on bonds, I know that my comment will come as a surprise to people who have been brainwashed into thinking that junk bonds are free money. They aren’t. The data from the maven of bond research, W. Braddock Hickman, shows that junk debt outperforms high quality only in rare situations, because of the default risk. In love, the data is even clearer. Stay with high-quality human beings. And once you find that you are in a junk relationship, sell immediately. Junk situations can look appealing and seductive, but junk is junk. Be wary of it unless you control the market. (Or, as I like to tell college students, the absolutely surest way to ruin your life is to have a relationship with someone with many serious problems, and to think that you can change this person.) • Research pays off. The most appealing and seductive (that word again) exterior can hide the most danger and chance of loss. For most of us, diversification in love, at least beyond a very small number, is impossible, so it’s necessary to do a lot of research on the choice you make. It is a rare man or woman who can resist the outward and the surface. But exteriors can hide far too much. • In every long-term romantic situation, returns are greater when there is a monopoly. If you have to share your love with others, if you have to compete even after a brief while with others, forget the whole thing. You want to have monopoly bonds with your long-term lover. At least most situations work out better this way. ( I am too old to consider short-term romantic events. Those were my life when Lyndon Johnson and Richard Nixon were in the White House.) • The returns on your investment should at least equal the cost of the investment. If you are getting less back than you put in over a considerable period of time, back off. • Long-term investment pays off. The impatient day player will fare poorly without inside information or market-controlling power. He or she will have a few good days but years of agony in the world of love. To coin a phrase: Fall in love in haste, repent at leisure. • Realistic expectations are everything. If you have unrealistic expectations, they will rarely be met. If you think that you can go from nowhere to having someone wonderful in love with you, you are probably wrong. You need expectations that match reality before you can make some progress. There may be exceptions, but they are rare. • When you have a winner, stick with your winner. Whether in love or in the stock market, winners are to be prized. • Have a dog or many dogs or cats in your life. These are your anchors to windward and your unfailing source of love. Ben Franklin summed it up well. In times of stress, the three best things to have are an old dog, an old wife and ready money. How right he was. THERE is more that could be said about the economics of love, but these thoughts may divert you while you are thinking about your future. And let me close with another thought. I am far from glib about the economy. It has a lot of pitfalls facing it. As workers and investors, we know that many dangers lurk in our paths. But so far, these things have always worked themselves out and this one will, too. In the meantime, they say that falling in love is wonderful, and that the best is falling in love with what you have. Ben Stein is a lawyer, writer, actor and economist. E-mail: ebiz@nytimes.com. http://www.nytimes.com/2008/07/13/business...amp;oref=slogin I swear to god this was my idea. At least that's the code I've been living in. Hense I'm single and a virgin. On the other hand, er... I learned how to pleased myself very well with my other hand... *blush*

"if you light a man a fire, he'll be warm for a night; if you light a man on fire, he'll be warm for the rest of his life." "Love like you need money, work like everyone's watching, and dance like it hurts." Before insulting someone you should walk a mile in their shoes. So when you do insult them you are a mile away and you have their shoes. "Don't sh!t where you eat." "Bros before hoes."

Sounds like a lot of fun, and you get to understand the writing industry in general (in terms on how it works and how to get published). Highly recommended, even if it was just for an experience. No... the chances of being a successful writer is slim but you never knew if you could be the next Rowling! Highly recommended. I would have given it a shot too if not for my poor writing skills and the fact that my daytime job and WoW sucks the life out of me.

Congratulations. Best wishes to you both. P.S I didn't know Nyyark is india/pakie? I guess peredhil must be a "darker kind-of elf".

1) How Rogues are overpowered! 2) Warlocks need more buffs! 3) Zomg BBQ hax! QQ more!

*Poof* your wish is granted... you suddenly have yourself a yard sell. People came about and start taking interest in your stuff that you wished for... At the end of the day, you sold everything including all your funiture, all your clothes, and everything you ever had. Now you stand in frount of an empty house with nothing except the clothes on your back and a few hundres bucks you made at the sale. I wish I'll have a decent looking, nice, well-off girlfriend that actually plays World of Warcraft.

What kinda pie?

Nicely Written with an interesting twist in the end.

Zomg it's the Aardvark!!! Welcome back.

I wrote a haiku But it is not very good So I won't share it.

What in the world? There is a Critic Corner?

I agree... I would be very interested in a D&D campaign. P.S We also need our own wikipedia entry.

Btw I refuse to believe Zool is not evil. He must have cheated or something.

Not bad of a start, keep writing.

The Pennite Dossiers While none can claim the catastrophic Hurricane Katrina as the works of the factions (indeed, the thoughts of anyone able to conjure such powerful devastation is quite frightening indeed). Cato Smyths, The Archbishop of Miami had quite convincingly sway her least favorite packs to perform reconnaissance in the otherwise mysteriously impenetrable Camarilla New Orleans Chapter. Now one might expect the kindred be flushed from their very lair and if fortuitous enough, be wisped away from the sun and be done with. To give the Camarilla credit most did not fall to the chaos that ensured like their fellow anarch and instead organized to combat the natural predicament as well as our restlentless attacks. Still we have gathered much information of their structure and defenses, most notably the cast of character and their play. Peredhil; called the Great Grandfather. Generation 6 Venture (Torpor) Little is known of this kindred before he came along with the first wave of Vampires migrating to the New world. He was the founding member to Camellia in Philadelphia before the Sabbath recently overran the city. Some say the Vampire Peredhil was an Inconnu, passive to the threat of anarch and even to the Sabbat and slow to anger. He seldom meddled with the affairs of any kindred but to incurring his wrath is certain doom. Words even spoke of him wielding the blessings of God with a truth faith, inflicts aggravating damage to his foes. Once this powerful elder solidify the Camarilla’s position in New Orleans he submerge into his torpor. Arawn, THE MAD KING, Generation ?? Malkavian (missing) No information available. Gwaihir: or other defamatory terms behind her back: Generation 9 Toreador. Not much works remained of this once self-proclaimed Artiste turned Poseur, but those that sees her shrewd maneuvers amount her kindred can only estimate how precise her arts can be. Indeed this prominent Toreador once held both position as Prince of New Orleans and the Keeper of the Elysium. She has since relinquished her position as Prince but it is rumored that those that took her place serves merely as puppets to her will. It was mostly due to her organization that Camellia still holds the city after the disaster. Without a doubt, her influence only increases as she took the opportunity to weed out the few hostile anarchs and inconvenient oppositions that stood in her way. In our prospective that only marked her as a more crucial target in the inevitable fall of New Orleans. Tyrion the Imp, Generation 8 Nosferatu (missing) Samuel McGee was just an ordinary Negro farm hand at a cotton field with an unordinary habit of using his extraordinary good looks and his sexual prowess to seduce young white maidens to his haystack bed. His activities however caught the attention of a Nosferatu and quickly embraced him, turning him into the abomination that he is now. However the resourceful childe had managed to thrive in the world of darkness. His allegiance to Prince Gwaihir definitely aids his survival as he aspired to be the eyes and ears of the Prince herself before he vanished without a trace. Whether he truly met his final death or involving in some sinister plan remains a question of concern... P.S Any mentioning of his human name arouse great anger. Salinye, Generation 11 Toreador (missing). Her embrace was as every bit as an enigma as her sudden disappearance from New Orleans. This young kindred simply walked in one of Gwaihir’s extravagant party and presented herself, much to everyone’s astonishment. Still her charming face and elegant ways won over many who spoke out against her that night; the artistic works that was presented was simply genuine and most still hangs in the halls of the Elysium. Without much protest she settled herself within the city premise and proliferated until her mysterious absences sometime before Hurricane Katrina. Some say her unknown sire had her hunted down and staked her, other rumors circulates that she had forbiddingly created childe of her own, and had became the victim of their diableries… Gyrfalcon, The Forest Childe Generation 7 Gangrel The seemingly young country boy was in fact an 800 year old kindred of the Celtic bloodline. Little is known about this elusive Gangrel except his preference of solstice common to his clan, the uncanny quickness of his shotgun (even for a kindred), and that he prowls around the secret highways between New Orleans and Baton Rouge on his motorcycle. While he seldom pay any heeds into the activities of New Orleans he serves as a lookout for his kinde and therefore must be dealt with before any possible attacks can be made against the city. Canid, simply known as the wolf, Clan of the Black Furies. While the she-wolf is lupine and holds all kindred in contempt, this threat simply exists and must be dealt with before the Sabbat could hope to secure its hold in New Orleans and the surrounding area. It is speculated that Canid settled herself in the area to protect something sacred to their wolf-clan, and even recent report a sinister pact struck between her and the residing Camellia in New Orleans. If this rumor was confirmed, such ill news cannot bold well for the Archbishops and the Chapter. Exercise extreme caution when approach, in fact do not approach at all. Rune, or the Great Mother/Demoness, Generation ?? Salubri (missing??) During the Civil War that disquiet many of the kindred, A Salubri vampire by the name of Rune established a sanctuary within the holds of New Orleans for those that choose not to side in the conflict and only seek to go on with their merry undead lives. The establishment became the forerunner of the current Elysium and home to many stray kindred that lived even till today. The idea of a Salubri having political hold, in fact the very existence of a Salubri terrified the Tremere. In one decisive strike the motherhouse in Vienna sent the whole Chantry against her. Yet even then the newly residences of the sanctuary stood against the uncanny mages and an undocumented civil war of their own was fought within one night. The Chantry was driven out of New Orleans and many kindred met their final death, but the sanctuary that Rune used as a house of healing was burned to the ground with the Salubri presumed dead. The elders themselves, busy with their efforts to the war against the ananch, vowed not to speak a word of this atrocity. Yet in the following centuries tales of a vampire aiding her fellow kindred in times of great need with the power of healing continue to surface in the alleyways of the city. The few that doubted were told to look upon the existance of the Elysium as the prove of her own continual existence. Ozymandiaz, King of Kings; Generation ?? Followers of Set. Not much information pertaining to this kindred other then the fact that started a blood cult within the suburban area after the incident with Hurricane Katrina. While the kindred bear resemblance to the old Egyptian king it requires further investigation to confirm his identity. Tralla, Generation 11 Toreador. A Childe Artiste of note in the current circle of New Orleans. She was a writer of marginal success before being embraced by one of the Toreador in the city. Finnis AKA The Finished Finnish Finnis/The Blue Mage, Generation 9 Malkavian (deceased) (To be reported at later date) Madoka (insufficient information, to be reported at later date) Celles (insufficient information, to be reported at later date) Kendricke (deceased) (insufficient information, to be reported at later date) Sorciere (insufficient information, to be reported at later date)

I like it.

Congradulations. I'm happy that everything has worked well for you. You always seems so depressed and upset but now I'm sure you got something nice to be cheerful about. GG

Of beast and men So there was this time when the Dark Mysterious Figure was called on being the substitute teacher for a small grade 1-2 joint class. While taking care of three year old was not certainly beyond the awesome skills of the man himself, the Figure was short on geld and therefore must take whatever opportunities that was available. The job was simple enough: teach the children simple arithmetic, spelling, supervise them in their play session, read them a bedtime story and then tuck them to sleep until the school buss arrives at 3:30pm. While the children were in awe with a dark cloaked replacement for their usual normally dressed female caretaker, the morning was without incident. Well maybe the dark mysterious one lied about a bit about how the children would not be near him at first, and how they are afraid of the man that speaks under the darkness of his hidden face, or the fact that by afternoon they had all tug the dark one’s robes and tried to peek underneath to see if he’s wearing anything inside. However that story was meant for another tale in another time. Now after lunch was the usual highlight for the children. It was story time and as children they all loved to hear stories from the teacher before they go to sleep on the carpet floor. Now they all wait in anticipation to see what story this strange substitute would tell. There beside the teacher’s chair was a rack of storybooks that often their normal teacher would pick and read to them. Their favorite story was "Not Another Fairy Tale". They were mildly disappointed when the Dark Mysterious Figure grabbed none, but instead he gathered the children around. "Come closer," said the anonymous voice behind the shadowy hood. The voice was still icy but was calmer and gentler. "After the story I will ask you a question and whoever gets it right gets a candy!" The Dark one flashed a rare smile. Reluctantly the children obeyed, and so the dark mysterious figure began. "Once upon a time there was men and beast. It is a very simple idea that men hunts beast for food and vice versa. Sometimes the beast wins, and sometimes the man wins. It is always assumed that only the stronger would always kill the weaker and feast on its corpse. Now there was this man who killed a beast. Even though he was hungry, there was a lot of meat for one man to have. A lot must have gotten through the mind of this man at the moment. Even though he was strong he must sleep, and when he sleeps he will be weak and be attacked by either from another beast, or other men who want his hard-earned meat. There were a many men or beast that was faced with the same situation, but this one have an idea. The first man that came was hungry because he was not so lucky in the hunt. The beast he came across was stronger then he was, but when he saw this man that had just finish hunting and have some meat. To his surprise the man offered the meat to him and he was happy. Free meat! Soon more game and they all have the meat. They are no longer hungry. They praise this great man and call him 'hunter'. Now as the hunter fell asleep the others pondered what to do. They could leave, but that would mean they will have to hunt their own meat. Quite frankly most of them are not that strong and would have trouble killing any beast. The beast would not come to attack with so many men around. They would forever be known as ‘sentry’. Day after day the hunter kills more beasts and shared the meat, often taking the tastiest meat and toss out the scrap for the rest. Between here and there the hunter has an urging, and that was when he saw women. Now all men lust for women but when the hunter stands out none would contest his wishes. Often the most neglected part of the story was a woman’s view point, but if it was up to the women she would have picked the hunter over the sentry. The hunter provides the best meat for her, and it also follows that that the child of a hunter would always be a hunter, just like any hunter would choose the most beautiful woman. Any mother would want their child to be a hunter; such is the nature of things. Speaking on the nature of things, it goes that there was always someone stronger then you. In this case there came a beast so strong that even the hunter cannot defeat. The beast attacks and the hunter would surely be dead if he was alone; instead many sentries died but not the hunter. Winter came, and many beasts were gone and meat was so scarce that even the hunter was hungry. The hunter and even some of the stronger sentries chase away the weaker ones. Those weak sentries, by this time, has lost all the skills and strength for hunting and died in the cold." "Now children," the Dark Mysterious Figure said to those children that are still awake. "There was always a moral to the story. The Hare and the tortorise taught us not to be lazy; Pinocchio taught us not to lie, Now tell me what this one is." "Life *&()&)*B sucks," shouted the angry Falcon2001k. His half-brother Gyrfalcon only smiled. "Zzzz," snored little chubby Wyvern, already bored to death by the tale. He stretched his tiny claws and took a whack at Falcon2001k who disturbed his precious sleep. A bit of a struggle soon followed. "It's good to be a hunter," the always sharp and alert Gwaihir replied, and a few followed her with nods and agreement. The slow but deep Ozymandias spoke up last , "hunters or sentry, we all fight the beast." "So who’s right?" They all raised their little voice as they shifted their eyes toward the bag of candy in the figure's skeletal hand. The Dark Mysterious Figure only smiled, stood up, and place the bag of candy on the now empty chair.

Half of infinite should still be infinite Happy birthday Wyvern.

There's a pennite remain unnamed who expects all to agree her game. op powers she abuse wrong doing she excuse The pen channel would never be the same. fun, respect and ideas once forlick until all that disagrees was kicked great a-many left never again met We stand now in Aftermath's wake There was an ancient named Jechum around in Archmage and then some. On occassion he floats in Sometimes he can be seen And we r'all giveth the best welcome

I left this place a year ago I dropped by but sadden to know Many have left and gone For right or for wrong. Self-Servring elitest, You've been told.