Oh this is going to sound like a Disney movie but hey whatever right?



In a world without dreams...
Without the second star to the right..
No little girls' wishes for princes in the middle of the night..
Bethany Redd wanted a world of her own
"Make it for me daddy" she said her voice filled with woe
Daddy did and rich he became
Big Ben's Dream Co. was the source of his fame.
Making up dreams for the poor and the rich
The idea seemed to take off without a hitch.
Until her sister's betrayal and the boy who didn't need her father's drug.
Evan was a dreamer born natural and pure
His mind was open his dreams real and sure
He had made a world of wonder and delight
Something he foolishly flounted he saw late at night
Jealous Bethany went screaming to her father
"I want it! I want it! Give it to me now!"
With a sigh he wondered why he gave a bother
She was never happy he supposed
Biting her tongue she was always opposed
He captured Evan and through him his wonderful dream
Making it real so Bethany could scheme
Deep in the night down by the river Rose went
Hiding in shadows by the gazebo she was met
George had loved her since the first time he saw her
Deciding she was his to be forever
They kissed and they cooed whispering promises so sweet
Deep in the shadows lay the one they forgot to meet
Bethany growled and festered
Her sisters heart she would soon squester
Her fathers' potion was nearly complete
Soon she would be in a world all tidy and neat
Waiting for her she soon would rule supreme
Unapposed with a new Redd Regime.
But first there were a few things she would need to dispose of.
Their rendevouz over Bethany followed her sister
Into their shared room she was sure no one would miss her.
A shiny knife hidden behind her back she waited and hid
Once Rose laid down Bethany came beside with a sly sort of grin
Stabbing her sister in the chest she began to cut
Out came her heart and in its place went a button patching up her chest
Bethany smiled "Trust me its for the best"
Grabbing her sister still groggy from the operation
"And now" Bethany muttured "To the Nightmare station"
Once at the station she waited impatient
Finally the train arrived all whistles and steam
"Take me to this dream" Bethany said her eyes evil eyes agleam.
The conductor did as she was told blowing the whistle and starting the wheels
"Go faster" began Bethany's scold
The conductor didn't listen as was expected
Waiting a moment until the coal box was left unprotected
Into the fire Bethany launched a pail with water
To the smoke stack she hacked and tried to slaughter
Bit by bit the smoke stack chipped and broke away
Letting the nightmares fly free in disarray.
"Stop! Stop! You don't know what you're doing!" Cried Beelzebub Top flailing.
"Oh but I do!" Bethany laughed "And just the right timing!"
Below her lie her dream just waiting.
Rose in one hand cage in the other Bethany jumped down debating
What would she do next? What wonders could she create.
Better start now no time to wait.
First came the keys and then the beheadings
The massacre of flowers, her evil was spreading.
Of course there was one more thing she had to do.
In the middle of the night George woke with a start.
Sweat dripping from him he felt the panic in his heart.
In front of him stood Rose bleeding a button over her chest.
Bethany smiled and had her sisters shoulder.
"George how could you?" Over his heart she pressed.
He cried out in panic and fear.
"What are you doing? Get out of this room you hear!"
Evan came running hearing his brother cry out.
"Do you want to save her?" Bethany said with a pout.
She pressed harder his heart nearly in her grasp. Evan pounded on the locked door his voice a gasp.
"You won't get the chance." Bethany crooned and petted. "Your heart is mine."
She ripped out his heart still fluttering and beating in its place she filled it with nightmares dark and fleeting.
Evan slammed through the door just in time to watch George take form.
Dark and sinister a jabberwock was born.
"No!" Evan cried. "What have you done!"
"You want to save them?" Bethany laughed. "Come to Wonderland, we'll have such fun!"
Evan was left in the smoke and dust.
Coughing and gasping his world just went bust.
Wonderland? What could she have meant?
Was it a person, a place, inside a tent?
Evan wondered and fretted until he could think no more.
Days went by, two three, dozens by the score.
Still he didn't know what she had implied, this was something he couldn't take in stried.
He tried and tried to dream with all of his might.
To get back to that place that he could put right.
Nothing came not for weeks on end until finally with a loud CRACK he met a new friend.
"Are you the boy with the ability to dream?" Beelzebub demanded in his face and loud.
"Are you the one who created that place, the one that drew a crowd?"
"What place are you taling about?" Evan demanded annoyed and unkempt.
"Wonderland! You know with the singing flowers that tempt!"
"It was never called wonderland, but sure I'm the one that did it? What's it to you?"
"Wonderland is in chaos the Redd Queen has destroyed it."
"So? I don't care, not one whit."
"Well you should, your brother is there in Jabberwock form."
Evan looked at her tried to see her through the storm.
"My train was destroyed I'm here on a line." She continued in gloom. "Hearts are succumbing we're running out of time."
"I don't believe you." Said Evan with a glare. "Wonderland was never real, so go away and don't mention it again, don't you dare."
"Fine! Don't believe me! Say it's not true! But when the Nightmares take over don't say I didn't warn you!"
Another crack and she was gone all that was left was a rabbitt with a note.
Evan bent down and picked up the bunny, his curiosity stroked.
"Curioser, and curioser." He said fingering the paper.
"What does it say?" A voice said from the lingering vapor.
"Hurry and read! Don't keep me in suspense!"
Evan looked around feeling really quite dense.
Opening the paper he began to read.
"Follow me, I'll take the lead."
That's all it says? Evan wondered silently.
The bunny kicked, leaping from his arms mightily.
With no other choice Evan followed, darting around corners and dodging tables.
He followed the bunny right out to the stable.
"What are we doing here?"
"Oh please do hurry!" That voice said again, high and whining. "There's no time to sit and worry!"
He darted after the bunny trying to grab his leg. But before he could the bunny disappeared into the hay.
"Oh what now?" Evan demanded annoyed.
Needing no extra prodding or pushing he went into the hay, coughing and sputtering he felt the cliche.
"A needle in a haystack, I do believe the rabbitt has become-"
down the rabbitt hole he did succumb.
He screamed and he yelled and he cried out for relief from this pain, of course he continued to yell quite in vain.
He continued to fall and fall he did. Until finally he came to a stop quite right on his head.
"Where am I?" He demanded putting himself to rights.
"In Wonderland of course." Said a voice all snobbish and contrite.
"Oh of course, how stupid of me." He said sarcastic. "And I suppose this land is bright and full of things fantastic."
"Well not anymore." Said the voice full of sorrow. "It used to be what you made it, all wonderful and bright."
"Who are you? This voice that I hear. I know I'm not daft, so come out! Appear!"
A cat wandered out all purple and pink striped.
"If you must." It said with a snipe.
"Finally someone to talk too who makes any sense."
"Sense is for those who have any to give, lest they make no sense of their own."
"Right, of course." Evan said with a moan.
"Just tell me what's happened."
"It's already been explained, you didn't listen."
Of course he didn't he thought the girl was insane.
Now that he was here, of course, her explanation seemed a little more mundane.
"Tell me what I have to do." He said
"Go find the conductor and try to make her forgive."
"I don't know if I can, she seemed pretty mad."
The cat shrugged and smiled a big toothy grin and gave a small pooh pooh.
"She'll get over it, she needs you just as much as you need her."
Evan doubted the sentiment but didn't say a word.
"I'll find her and I'll try to be nice."
"Everything is going to come at a price."
He set off then in search of the conductor. Then stopped in the middle.
"But how am I going to find her?"
A small flash made him look over.
There was a tiny line over his right shoulder.
Taking the line gently between two fingers, he started off not daring to linger.
In front of him was a garden filled with flowers. Dangerous and deadly they stared at him and glowered.
"What does he want, coming in here?"
"Hush Lilly let him linger in fear."
"No one can resist our sweetest of scents."
"Of this little boy we will tear and rent."
"In pieces he will be to feed our garden."
"Of course dear tulip, now begging your pardon." The Daisy bent over to plot and to scheme.
"When he isn't looking we will lay him down and he will dream."
"Then we will tear him bit by bit, bury him deep while he is still asleep."
The flowers all agreed and started to sing. Weaving a spell of heady days and spring. Evan felt himself grow tired and groggy. The world around him started to whirl and go foggy.
"Maybe I'll lay down just for a while." He convinced himself. "That spot there, looks inviting."
The flowers increased their charm and beguile.
Seduced and transfixed Evan laid down to rest. A mushroom cradled his head and a spider web blanket on him was affixed.
"Now girls!" The Rose cried in murderous joy.
A yowl startled Evan out of his reverie.
"Help!I'm stuck!" cried the terrified boy.
A swipe of the claws a flick of a tail.
"Run boy! Run and flee!"
The cat cheshire in its way stayed behind to defend.

TO BE CCONTINUED

CHAPTER ONE (1) : PROLOGUE



No one can really prepare for the end of the world. Okay, sure, the Bible gives you an outline of what might happen, a sort of explanation I guess. And Nostradamus guessed at the date, and I suppose you can train and prepare for something like a terrorist attack or even a fire.
But come on, the end of the world?
Well, let me tell you, no one expected what happened.

It all started when Disneyland inexplicably closed down. People were disappointed and confused and the company lost millions of dollars but everyone just assumed it would reopen eventually. It was when PIXAR stopped making movies people started to wonder. DREAMWORKS was next to close, then LIONSGATE and PARAMOUNT PICTURES until finally Hollywood and the porn industry shut down.
The reason they gave to the press was simple and followed by a shrug:
“We’ve run out of ideas.”
For the first time major Hollywood actors were out of a job. Soon television shows, and even reality TV. stopped airing turning instead to reruns to help keep the business afloat.
Soon even books stopped appearing on shelves and so on until the world seemed to come to a grinding halt.
Why?
How in the world could something like this happen?
Was it a virus?
Had computers finally taken over?
Was Y2K actually real?
Zombies?
Crab people?

People couldn’t dream anymore.




















Kind of anticlimactic isn’t it? But wait! Hold on! Before you put this down and roll your eyes and call this “the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard of” hear me out. Dreams are a necessary part of our life and well being. Really, go look it up in a medical journal or a psych magazine, they’ll agree with me. Once you take the dreams away and all of those wake-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night-AH HAH!-moments, you’ve pretty much destroyed humanity.
Well, okay that’s a little dramatic but you get my point. Take away the dreams and people get nasty and irritable, they get really grouchy and generally not very nice to be around.
But there are other repercussions as well. Take away the dreams and you’ve taken away the very creativity of man. So, all the ideas all the emotion and all the creativity, indeed all the ingenuity and all that stuff that goes along with it, goes away.
When the REM sleep goes away so do the dreams.
Now that we have that established and hopefully you haven’t put down the book yet, we can move on.

People could still sleep and for years and years. And people did sleep without their dreams, looking to books and television to lull them into a sleep state. Still no dreams, but there were nightmares. Bad nightmares, terrible manifestations of the mind unable to cope with the various traumas of the day.
And when the brain can’t do that, the body can’t get rest and people tend to think their Nightmares are real.

That’s where I come in. Well, sort of, at least that’s why I came into being in the first place. And it wasn’t only me and my train, the Dreamer came around too.
Do I still have your interest? Good.
My name is Beelzebub Brown and this is the Nightmare Train. If you want to find out what happens to our Dreamer then come with me and I’ll tell you all about it. There’s a couple of beds in the passenger cart if you get tired.

All Aboard!




















CHAPTER TWO (2): PROLOGUE CONTINUED

When Harold Redd was born the Korean Conflict had already ended. The world was left torn and damaged and over half the population had disappeared, the sad casualties of a world war in a modern nuclear age.
What once were sprawling cities had been chipped away and whittled down from their former glory. Now they were home to cramped business buildings and overcrowded apartment complexes as more and more people tried to get away from a vengeful mother nature.
We were warned a long time ago that it would happen, the generation before mine failed us and we tried to pick up the pieces and put them back together. We almost succeeded, but failed miserably when mama nature threw everything she had at us during and after the war. Now the world was mostly water with a few dry spots here and there, and it was cold. Very cold. So naturally, people’s priorities changed. Instead of who had the biggest house and car, it became who could stay the warmest.
But people adapted as our species always does. Just, no one really went outside much anymore.
Technology was still there but it wasn’t as good as we had been promised, which isn’t surprising, just disheartening.
Disease spread like wildfire as well. New almost incurable strands of sickness we were familiar with; smallpox, measles, the flue, and even the common cold had now become super diseases, resistant to almost every antibiotic with the exception of penicillin and even that wasn’t 100% guaranteed to cure. All of this of course, didn’t happen in one fell swoop. There were no apocalyptic four horsemen to usher in the end of the world. At least, not all at one time.
By the time Harold was fifteen the cities were put on stilts to protect from the rising frigid waters, and the temperature of the earth had dropped to a constant low. At eighteen, disease and famine had spread until even the wealthiest of countries were struggling to feed their people. At twenty two the already small population had dwindled to a third of what it once was, alleviating most of the famine and yet creating new problems of its own.
At twenty six nature had taken her toll, forcing what was left of the population into already overcrowded cities with very few brave souls settling in old towns and suburbs. By the time Harold Redd was thirty, people had stopped dreaming.

As the saying goes; “where there is struggle there’s always someone out there who wants to be the hero.” Enter Harold Redd, thirty two and handsome and very, very wealthy. The son of Thomas and Martha Redd he was a born prodigy and golden boy. A paragon of the scientific mind.
At least that’s what he told himself every night before he went to bed. To most people he was ill-tempered and very difficult to work with, always thinking that he was right and never giving any leeway to an idea that might contradict his. However, when he emerged on the podium in front of the White House and the press, people seemed to forget those nasty thoughts they had about him.
“I have a dream.” He began in the most overused of opening lines. “That one day each and every one of us will walk on this earth as we once did, masters of all things living plant or animal.”
Cheers from an overly enthusiastic crowd. However, as Harold continued on, outlining his plan the cheers and enthusiasm from the crowd seemed to die down until barely a flicker of it remained. Instead the pervading thought was that of Harold and his state of mind.
Was he crazy?
What was the man thinking?
Who would do such a thing?
Who would PAY for such a thing?
And more importantly; what did he say?

Harold Redd had a plan all right. His plan came wrapped up in dollar signs and a bow. All you had to do was allow him and his teams put you on a table, knock you out, and put a timer and a few wires into you, maybe switch out your heart with a little metal one and a little key in the back of your neck. That was all, no big deal.
He would turn us into walking clocks.
“This plan,” He said. “Will allow humanity to exist for years to come without fear of disease and death.”
Without fear of death, at least until your little key stopped turning. But he didn’t mention that part.
Many people thought the risk was too much and decided to go it alone, their body parts intact. Yet more people bought into Harold and his speech and paid large sums of money to go under the knife and spare themselves the dreaded diseases plaguing the world.
Very soon Harold was a rich man. His life couldn’t be more perfect.
Until of course he met Sandy. THEN his life couldn’t be more perfect.
She was a tall skinny woman, with model-like features. Blond hair, a great smile, and a fabulous personality. Everyone couldn’t stop raving about Sandy Redd. She was gorgeous, she was a trendsetter, she was a brilliant light in the psychological field, and she was best friends with the Kennedy’s. Oh, and she could see Russia from her house. No. Really.
She was also spoiled rotten a little bit of a snob, she didn’t care for the Kennedy’s children because they were “sotty little wankers with no sense of manners.” She was seen with one of her patients in a hotel room, she was on one drug or another. Of course you never heard that except in the tabloids. To the general populace she was a shining light in a dull, dull world, full of promises and dreams.
Harold and Sandy was a match made in heaven.
At least that’s what they told themselves before they went to bed every night.


CHAPTER THREE (3): MORE PROLOGUE

A year after meeting Harold and Sandy were wed. A year after that another press conference was had (this time in front of the Big Ben clock tower which Harold had turned into his company tower) to announce something so revolutionary it would knock the population’s collective socks off.


“On this day,” She began dramatically, “on this most glorious of days I bring to the people’s of the world a gift. A gift that has so long eluded us, so long tormented us with its memory, so long denied our minds the rest and respite we need.”
The audience waited with bated breath. Sandy flashed her world famous bright smile.
“I give to you.” She held out a tiny glass vial. “The power of dreams!”
The world went mad as the sun broke through the gloomy English clouds and shone brilliantly illuminating the green liquid in the vial.
The next thing Sandy and Harold knew they were wealthy, they were powerful, and they had just been elevated from the “worlds’ most interesting couple” to “saviors of the world”. Honestly, to them, the latter was so much better than the former. It had a nicer ring to it.
Of course, as was customary, no one told the general populace about the nasty side-effects of what Sandy had named RESET. No one needed too. They were the saviors of the world they were so far above petty things like “mandatory disclosure of ingredients” and “safety and well being of the general populace.”
Who cared if the world turned into walking zombies? As long as the money kept rolling in the fate of the “little people” was no concern of theirs.
At least that’s what they told themselves before they went to bed every night.
Life was good for a while. A good two years in fact. It seemed nothing could get in the way of the Redd’s success, well-being, happiness, or way of life. In fact they were so happy they made a point of ignoring the dissention and unhappiness in the people who bought their product.
But here’s the funny thing about living in a bubble. Eventually, that little bubble has to pop and reality sets in. Another cool thing about bubbles is, you could be living in your bubble and I can have mine and we can both be happy with each other so long as neither of us knows what goes on in the other person’s bubble. And so it went with Harold and Sandy neither of them burst the others’ bubble and they both went on with their happy little lives. That is, until the money did the bursting for them.
When the money slowed down, Harold brushed it off. Everyone went into a recession now and again. When it started trickling in, he began to worry. When RESET sales dropped drastically he puffed out his chest and sprang into action.
He began asking questions of his staff and research team, what was going on? Why were RESET sales so low? Was it a production error? No one could give him satisfactory answers. So he waited, something had to happen. It was when the complaint department (yes he had one) started receiving mass phone calls did the reason become clear.
“Johnson. Go get Mr. Redd, I think we’ve found our answer.”
Johnson, a scrawny boy of fourteen and the office’s mail boy dropped his packages into his cart and ran to the elevator. Punching in the numbers to the top floor he wanted tapping his foot impatiently until the elevator stopped and dinged open. From there he ran down the short corridor and smack into Harold himself. Harold, disturbed and more than a little irritated looked down his nose at the red haired, freckled boy in distaste.
“I’m sorry sir.” Johnson stuttered, his skinny body shaking.
Annoyed Harold brushed his apology away with a sniff. “Fine, fine, what is it you want boy?”
“Sir, Kim down in the complaint department wishes to see you; she says she might have the answer you want.”
Harold pushed the boy aside and moved quickly to the elevator.
“Ahem.”
Johnson looked behind him at his boss, impatiently waiting in the elevator for someone to push the button for him. Hurriedly getting to his feet Johnson rushed to the elevator and filled his role as bell boy, taking Harold down to the bottom of Big Ben and below, into a small sub room where the complaint department was located.
“Which one is Kim?” He demanded in a low voice, startling the boy.
“The one in the white.” Johnson said vaguely.
“Boy they are all in white you will have to be more specific.”
Fidgeting with his nametag Johnson looked up. “I’ll take you to her sir.”
They weaved through the grid of desks until Johnson stopped at Kim’s. He tapped her on the back.
“Kim, Mr. Redd is here.”
Kim looked behind her at Harold’s dour and annoyed face.
“I am told you have information for me.”
“Y-yes sir. A woman called saying that she couldn’t dream. The RESET doesn’t work sir.”
“We’ve gotten more calls like that Mr. Redd.” Another worker, Tommy piped up. “I’ve been getting them for the last six months.”
Harold’s face turned bright red in anger. “And why hasn’t anyone told me about this!?” He demanded.
“B-because we weren’t supposed too.” Julia whimpered.
Harold whirled on the poor woman. “And who specifically directed you not to tell me about these calls? Who in their right mind issued such an order? TELL ME!”
Julia squeaked in fear. “Y-your wife sir.”
That brought a smirk to Harold’s face. “Oh she did, did she?”
“Yes sir.”
“Shut up.”

Harold stormed back to the elevator. Without waiting for Johnson he slammed his hand down on the button to the top floor nursing his anger as he waited. When the elevator dinged open he marched into his flat and threw open doors searching for the object of his wrath. The bathroom door slammed open causing Sandy to squeak and open the shower curtain.
“Who the HELL do you think you are woman?!” Harold raged.
She raised an eyebrow.
“What do you want Harold, I’m in the shower.”
“What do you mean by telling MY workers that they cannot report to ME the complaints coming into MY Company?”
He was in a rage now. Sandy shut the shower curtain, annoyed.
“Because there was nothing to complain about, RESET is the perfect drug.”
“Not according to your adoring fans.” He pointed out sneering. “According to them, the drug isn’t working.”
Sandy opened the shower curtain again, confusion on her face.
“That can’t be true, RESET always worked on the test subjects.”
“You FOOL!” He screamed punching the mirror. “You have RUINED MY COMPANY!”
He stormed out of the bathroom slamming the door behind him. Sandy shut the curtain once again.
“What was that about?” Eddy, her body guard asked.
She shook her head.
“He’s in one of his moods.”
Once again Harold went to the elevator, this time however it was below Big Ben that he found his answers. His first stop was his wife’s laboratories; there he met with her research and design team. After taking the tour he found out what he wanted too and promptly shut it all down.
“Now you listen to me, and you listen to me well. We are going to fix this problem now. No one is going home until I have a working form of RESET or something like it. I will not have addicts to some kind of zombie drug ruin this company. Get cozy people, you’re not going home until this is done. Am I clear?”
The twelve men and women nodded their heads slowly, no one daring to contradict the very angry man in front of them.

CHAPTER FOUR (4): THE END OF THE PROLOGUE

Months went by, months that were spent trying to calm angry RESET users down, months of losing vast sums of money, and months of trying to contain the Nightmare problem. Many innocent people that were trapped in the throws of a nightmare died. Clean up had to be done and the public had to be soothed. It was a lot of work for one man to do, bravely Harold rose to the challenge using all of his wit and charm (and public affairs workers) to calm the masses down.
In private on the other hand he was becoming more and more the tyrant, calling “crisis meetings”, interrupting work for hours at a time to find out where his team stood and demanding answers they couldn’t readily give.
A bright spot shone for Harold however. In a press meeting outside their summer home, where she had taken a much needed vacation, Sandy announced that she was expecting Harold’s children. The media and gossip columnists went crazy for a little while with speculation and wild rumors of an illicit affair between her and her bodyguard, and who the father of her children REALLY were, but after a time the focus shifted back to the growing “Nightmare Crisis” as the media named it.
“Something needs to contain them.” David said.
“Contain what?” Asked Marni, running a hand through her long black hair.
“The nightmares. Something has to contain them in order for them to stop.”
“Oh and how are we going to do that?” Taylor, Marni’s husband shouted, annoyed. “Put them in a little box and never let them out again?”
Tempers were running high. All twelve researchers had been trapped in their little laboratory for months on end, unable to leave and unable to come up with anything substantial enough to present to their overbearing boss.


Have fun kiddies!

Okay so I have two options.

Option a: start out at three in the morning and drive all the way to Utah myself.

Option b: spend the hundred or so bucks on a plane ticket, get to Utah and rent a car for some such odd amount of money a day.

Decisions, decisions.

Then again I can always wait and see how much money I'm going to get from this painting gig before making my decision.

Hrmmm...

Mine. Not the Navy per say, but the job I have to do IN the Navy. Which is, for lack of a better explanation, glorified guard duty.

Only with really big guns out in the middle of the water.

Granted I signed up for it and everything but the job itself is not THAT bad, it's the politics and the backstabbing that go along with it that just suck.

I'm seriously considering going to medical and telling them that I can't take these vertigo attacks. Honestly I don't know what's causing them and I don't really care, but it's getting to the point where it is a constant thing. My eyes feel like they track in my head and every so often my vision will swim and my world will turn upside down.
I can drive and everything like that, but it's getting to the point where I'm wondering if it's my glasses (and if it is they can be fixed, I'm waiting on the lenses now) or if it's my ears (I have to call the ENT clinic about that) if it's not my ears and it's not my glasses I'm half tempted to go to Chief and just say;

"look I can't do this job any more"

Just for fear of the fact that when the vertigo gets really bad I can't concentrate, it fucks me up that bad.

Yeah, ok, I have six months left in the Navy and I should stick it out in my command now, but seriously I need to get rid of the stress in my life and refocus on saving money and trying to do the most that I can to get to the point where I'm financially stable enough to live out here until Kyle goes on deployment (Oct 2009) and I go and live with my dad in Florida.

Anywhoo that's my rant for the night.

That and I really want a good reason to cry.

Seeya.

You put your pants on the same way every morning. You lace up your boots the same way each day.

So tell me why the fuck should men treat you like a woman when you're doing the same goddamned job they are?

So tell me, all of you feminists out there: why in Gods name should you get paid the same as a man and be treated like a woman, but then expect men not to look at your boobs, and then get mad when they do?

TELL ME THAT!

Go to hell. All of you feminists bitches out there who want the same cold hard pay as a man, the same benefits as a man, the same rights as a man, and the same uniform as a man but still want all the little "perks" that come with being a girl.

You bitches want the right to sit in the Administrative office and not do shit, and bitch about how stupid the people are that you work with. You bitches want the right to nit pick at other females who don't care about their gender and just want to get the job done, because they're not as high maitenance as you are.

You women want the right to be useless.

You want to use your sexuality to get what you want, and you don't give a rats ass who knows.

Well good for you.

I want the same rights as a man. I want the same pay as a man. I wear the same GODDAMNED uniform as a man. I pick up a gun and fight for my country JUST LIKE A MAN. And goddamnit, while I am in the military and so long as I am doing a man's job, you might as well treat me like one of the boys because that's all I am.

Feminists, you all can go to hell.

Oh, and for those of you women who WANT to be in the front lines. You all can go to hell too. Because while there are few women out there who have the capability to be SEALs, SWCC, RANGERS, AF SPECIAL OPS...you bitches who can't do the job and want to be treated like a WOMAN prevent those women from ever having the chance.

You know why? Because in the MAN vs WOMAN role...you picked woman and those women who can be special ops.....

picked MAN.

Hmm..something we call a clue.

So thanks.

Thanks a lot.

Because until the day comes along when women and men can shower and sleep together in the same room as coworkers and not think anything of it, as seen in Starship Troopers, humanity will never progress and see women Special Ops or even snipers.

And while part of that has to do with psychological make-up the other part of it is all your fault.


Thanks.

Okay...so I had tonsil surgery two weeks ago yes?

Just nod and say yes.

Well, do you ever have one of those days where you get a weird sore throat and you can't really yawn?

Nod and say yes again.

No big deal right?

Well, did you ever have another day where you start running and you get this slight wheezing sound that you can just barely hear over the music in your ears?

Again, nod and say yes.

Well..here's the thing.....

I have a GAPING hole where my left tonsil used to be.

Now, it's not a little hole. Oh no. Nonononononono. This thing you can stick the tip of your finger through!

Excuse me while I go have a minor panic attack....

That my life can be defined in one word.

Clean.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen for the last week and a half that has been the defining word of my life. I've been cleaning this stupid apartment for that long. Thank God I'm GTFO. These landladies are psychotic and I'm not paying $1030 a month just to have them nit pick at me.

Thank you, no.

However, I did get four paintings done while I was sick and I'm debating on making copies of them and selling them. Dunno though, I don't think they're that good. And I have come to the conclusion that I am going to start a comic strip that more than likely I'm going to post on here just for shits and giggles.

That comes when all the bills are tamed down and I can afford to spend the $1,100 on my STAR card to get another touch screen HP laptop and photoshop.
All in all it should run me about $1,500 to get everything. But OH I want it SO bad.

Bills first though.

Thank goodness I'm moving into my new place over the weekend. Next weekend at the latest. AND according to the weatherman it's supposed to thunder and lightning out here in Cali Friday and into the weekend.

YAY!

Anyway gotta go bye!

So I'm sitting here on my couch, listening to the television and counting down the hours until I have to take another dose of percocet.

For all intents and purposes I should be painting or something but I'm in a drug haze.

I hate drug hazes.

In and out of sleep. I want real people food, instead of popsicles that I can barely swallow and I wanna get out and do something.

But no.

Couch for me.

Back to bed.

Christ my throat hurts so bad.

I can't even really eat and drinking is a pain.

Someone just shoot me now.

So,ok, I don't know what it is but lately I've been on this stint of waking up at 0430 in the morning and actually taking the time to get ready for work. Instead of waking up, mumbling, changing, and then grabbing my uniform on the way out I'm sitting there in my bedroom watching spongebob straightening my hair and taking the time to get ready.

I ACTUALLY had enough time to get to Starbucks today.

Holy.Crap.

That never happens. Ok, once in a while maybe, but trust me when I say it's been a while.

Anywhoo.

So I have come to find out that I hate being called fat. Enough people do, but I really REALLY don't like it. At all.
I guess it's because even though I know I'm 175 pounds and overweight for my body height, I don't look like I'm overweight. Meaning I don't have a fat stomach and it still looks like I work out every now and again.
Strangely enough I have the body that I had in high school when I was swimming every day for 3 hours a day. Go figure.
Now, don't get me wrong, I know I'm overweight and I know I need to fix it, which is fine, but please don't sit there and remind me of the fact. It kind of pisses me off.
Especially when the person is sitting there eating a "gluten free" lunch and rubbing in the fact that she roped and choked me for the PRT and ran my numbers and somehow (maybe it was because of the bathing suit?) I came up with a 35% BMI. And then she proceeds to tell me that I can have the same weight and look skinnier.
Ummm..
No?
Trust me, I know my body well enough that I build muscle readily, especially when I work out and dependent upon the exercises that are being done, I tend to build bulk muscle. And now, while I have no problem saying that yes, a good portion of that 35% is fat another REALLY good portion of it is muscle.
Now she's referencing the fact that when I came back from Bahrain I was 146 pounds and looked like Spacey.
And that's not a bad thing Spacey, I think you look great.
for me?
Not so much.
At that weight I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off and not eating a damn thing except a half a meal a day.
Not cool.
So I'm eating regularly, daily, I run 3 miles a day when I can PT (due to work lately that hasn't been often) and I'm going to start incorporating swimming.
And you're telling me I'm fat.
Huh-uh.
Nope.
I refuse to believe it. Sorry.
When I can out perform a good number of females in my det I refuse to believe that I am fat and out of shape.
You don't get a 9:01 (backstroke) on your 450 meter PRT by being fat.
>.<

Ok enough of that.

Onto something completely new and strangely exciting.
My Chief is actually talking to me o.0.

It's really weird, but nice at the same time. In the three quarterdeck watches that I have had recently that man has been there after hours shooting the shit with me.
I have covered topics with him from his divorce to getting a new stereo system for my car.
I don't mind in the slightest. I really like Chief and he's a great conversationalist when I can actually sit down and talk to him, and he's freaking funny when he gets the mindset.
It's just weird because the man runs hot and cold so often.
Ah well. It's nice to have a friend in this det.
It's so funny too. He and I were talking and I found that he has a lot of the same mindset as I do about women in the military and how they act, how they want to be treated, and how they use their femininity and sex as a way out of too much work that they should never be let out of.


Anyway, I thought it was cool.

Well, I'm outta here.

Bye!

That creepy feeling that someone or something lied to you.



Yeah me too.



Those "accelerate your life" commercials.....



Yeah you know the ones. They look all cool and shit. They suck you in and make you go OH HELL YES!


Yeah well...


They LIE!!

*ninja*

Forty-eight hours away from Spaccle coming to visit me. This is going to be a lot of fun. Unfortunately for me the night she comes in (tomorrow) I have to stand watch from 0200-0800 friday morning.

It sucks but at least it gets me the rest of friday off. Hooray!

Anyway, then on the tenth I have to go get my tonsils taken out but that leads into 14 days of sick leave. Which will be a really nice break from the drama at work. And when I say drama I mean D.R.A.M.A.

God help me I can't wait to get out of this place.

Anyway I gotta get to bed.

Night everybody!

Woo! Update!

Chapter Two

Finally the sun peeping out through
It was Lewis who first woke feeling brand new
"What day is it?" He mumbled
Yawning and stretching for some water he fumbled
"Lorelei!" He called "Lorelei!"
She woke with a start "Einstein is the answer to pi!"
"Right. Sure." He said.
"Oh god. Oh god my head."
"I know the feeling."
"What day is it and how far did you get?"
Lewis flipped through his papers slowly.
"Not far." He answered." My papers got wet."
Lorelei shook her head. "And apparently so did we."
"Well what about you What did you come up with?"
She smiled and held out a key in bad need of a smith.
It was a key with tiny clocks
An extraordinary thing
Each had a tock
Each tock a tick
A certain lock had to swing
And a certain tumbler had to lock
But they had to match perfect and precisely
Everything had to line up nicely
A new world Lorelei had found
In the doormouse watch all nice and sound
Brand new it was with nothing in it
All this she rushed through in half a minute
"How did you find it?" Lewis asked his voice drained.
"It came to me in the night." Lorelei explained.
"I was stumped and my mind wandered."
Lorelei gave him a look to send him six feet under
"Anyway." He revised.
"I started thinking about keys and locks.
Each key goes to a certain lock and that certain lock makes a tock."
"What?"
"When a tumbler is turned it makes a sound."
"So?"
She was on a roll.
"To make a key to duplicate that specific tole.
If I could do that I'd break new ground.
So I made the key with a tiny clock and a tiny tock beat.
With tiny little tocks and hands all nice and neat."
"But why so many?"
"It's a skeleton key to mimic any tumblers' sound.
The empty space in between is where the world is found.
The clocks hold the correct time in space.
Holding it, keeping it in its own little place."
Lewis looked surprised and confused.
"It's the space when you open a door."
His eyes went wide and his expression was bemused.
"So now what do we do?"
"We have this space, this big empty nothing."
"Well I don't know wha-"
"We can't just stand here we have to do something."
"But-"Lorelei tried.
"The Redds wanted a world that's exciting and new."
"I think-" She said. "I think my poor brain is fried."
Lorelei sat down her head in her hands.
"I need a break." It was a demand. "Not one maybe two."
"Minutes or hours?" He was trying to be funny.
"Days."She snapped. Despite the day her mood was anything but sunny.
"Okay, okay, so go to bed." He told her.
"But why? Hold on a second are you sure?"
"I'm fine really. Seriously go on ahead."
Lorelei stood grumbling and groaning.
Arching her back she felt a pop and whined. "Lord what a morning."
Lewis laughed. "Would you mind leaving the key?"
"Why? What for?"
"Protective are you? Don't worry it's my part."
"Wait? What? You're making more?"
"Nope, off to bed with you. You're getting a bit tart."

Three Days Later.....

From the window Lewis fumbled and fell
"Having fun?" Lorelei demanded a bat in her hand.
"Not really." Lewis said. "This wasn't what I'd planned."
"I could tell."
She turned and sat on her bed.
"So-"
"Look what I've done!:
He held out the pocket watch.
"Looks like you had fun."
Lorelei took the key and turned at Lewis' warning:
"No, wait, don't turn it too much."
She turned the key and was gone with a click.
And was back so fast Lewis thought it a trick.
"Lewis! Lewis you've done it!"

And I should be reading or writing the rest of my poem, but the funny thing is....I sorta wanna be an internet nerd so here I am!

Oh and Spacey..CHECK YOUR JOURNAL!

Pweese?

I wanna see my Spaccle T-T.


NINE things about yourself:

1. I have body image issues. Really bad.
2. I love the movie Coraline. It's wonderland..only way cooler.
3. I have no idea what I wanna be when I grow up.
4. I sorta wanna be in animation. Or graphic design. Or art restoration. Or computer information management.
5. I want to write a Wonderland story and be known for it. And make it WAY cooler than Lewis Carroll's or even yours Neil Gaiman!
6. I'm a book nerd.
7. I'm really bad at remembering important stuff.
8. I'm really bad at remembering to write down the important stuff in order not to forget the important thing I'm supposed to be remembering.
9. I get out of the Navy in nearly 10 months and get this horrible feeling that the t.v. ads lied to me.

EIGHT ways to win your heart:

1. I'm contradictory. Remember to point this out. A lot.
2. Give me my "me" time. Even when I don't ask it.
3. I'm a solitary creature by nature. A social person at heart. Bring out the social side of me.
4. Tell me that you love me. Just for me.
5. You'd better like Disney. Just as much as I do (fanatic).
6. I don't worship Hitler, nor do I even like the man. Just because I read about him does not make me a closet Nazi. I have a thing with people and why they do the things that they do. Psychological studies are fun for me. Entertain my mind.
7. Hold me close when I'm feeling down.
8. Have fun with me and relax.

SEVEN things that cross your mind a lot:

1. ten months..ten months...ten months...ten months...ten months...ten months..
2. Bills.
3. Kyle.
4. Spaccle.
5. ten months...ten months..ten months..ten months...ten months...ten months..
6. please god say I'm not going on deployment..please god say I'm not going on deployment...please god say I'm not going on deployment....
7. COG/TACSUP/EXW exams and boards

SIX things you do before you go to bed:

1. Dinner.
2. Clean.
3. Two and a Half Men.
4. Shower.
5. PJs.
6. Ask Kyle if he's set the alarm and then climb into bed and pass out for the night.

FIVE things on your wishlist:

1. Sleep.
2. Not to go on deployment. Again. For the third time.
3. Lose 20 pounds.
4. The tenth of march to roll around sooner so I can get my tonsils taken out.
5. Ten months to go by really REALLY fast.


FOUR things you’re wearing right now:

1. Glasses.
2. BDU pants.
3. brown t-shirt.
4. thermal undershirt because, yes ladies and gentlemen, it DOES get cold in San Diego california.

THREE songs:

1. When Worlds Collide-Powerman 5000.
2. Barbie Girl (German)-Rammstein.
3. The Burger King Song-Adam Sandler.

TWO things you want to do before you die:

1. Travel.
2. Write a really good novel.

ONE confession:

1. I really really uber hate California.

CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?!



psst...I have a new iphone


it's not activated yet but I got a really good deal on it...






*happiness*

I'm a realist when the situation calls for it. An optimist when I approach things for the first time. And a pessimist when I just don't want to do something.

Someone help me figure this one out.

Why is it that when someone is talking about you and you hear it, why does it matter so much? Good lord.

Take this situation for instance, we were standing in muster and an MA1 told a third class to go home because this third class can't do much of anything but take up room and breathe air because she's on what they call Light Limited Duty. Cool, no problem well this particular third class was talking to another first class when the first MA1 said;

"This sounds like a Neumann thing to me."

Okay, pause real quick. MA2 Neumann seems to have constant medical issues which he complains about continuously and is the premise for this whole conversation.

Unpause. I look at this MA1 and say "Who?" and he does this thing with his eyes so he's pointing at the person he's talking about (the third class).

Big woopdie freaking doo. That's his opinion right?

Oh no. No no no no. My happy butt had to talk to the third class and tell her that I had no idea who she meant, and she should ask him if she has that big of a problem with what was said.


I mean honestly good lord.

It's amazing what comes into your head when you're in a small box and bored out of your mind.

Now, let's keep in mind that I've been writing upwards of about 5-6 years now, and I've only finished one story that has gone through multiple rewrites since. Well, I've never really done poetry but it's a lot of fun and I found that I can get the general story line down without having to go into too much detail and not to mention that I can always come back and turn it into a story later! Woo!

If this reminds anyone else of how Tim Burton created the Nightmare Before Christmas, yes I know it reminded me too and it has nothing to do with how I started this little thing. In all honesty I was in the Communications box listening to music and bored out of my mind.

Oh, and it's not done yet....

And, by the way, I can't rhyme to save my life..well ok I can but it's a rought draft!!

A Poem.

Two sisters very much the same
Twins in fact but with a different name
Betty Redd sweet and kind
Her sister Sarah Redd minutes older and refined

Mommy went away and daddy turned to gin
Lost in anger and a dismal depression
The last on their mind was emotional repression
No, for these girls a land of their own
Where they could be queen and daddy could atone
Long live the Redd Queens they chanted quietly
Now if only someone could make it reality

In comes Lorelei and her best friend Lewis
Perhaps they could help the girls through this
Enter Jeremy Pryer
Strong and handsome there was no one wiser!

Secretly Lorelei longed for him to notice her
And Lewis hoped for his transfer
Holding up a poster Jeremy told the scientists and nerds
Of a contest the likes of which they had never heard

Build a world! The poster proclaimed
The winner would recieve
(the poster continued to explain)
A ten thousand dollar prize and fame and fortune
(the likes of which they ccouldn't believe)
There was just one minor exception
One tiny little rule

It had to be real, a physical place

The crowd gathered around
Most of them lost, all of them dumbfound
How could one accomplish what was said with what tool?

Later that afternoon Lewis and Lorelei sat down to brood
Admist snacks, drinks, and a chair laden with food
In Lewis' room they sat and discussed
"How do you make a world?"
"You don't it's impossible." Said Lewis nonplussed.
"You have to be able too." Lorelei argued. "Or else how could ours be here?"
"Millions of years and lots of heat." Continued Lewis "This is getting hopeless I fear."
Lorelei smiled he was so weird.

But an interesting question he posed
It couldn't be that hard she supposed
But how to begin? Where to start?
Who knew creating a world could be an art

For hours they argued and fought
"Why don't we just give up!" Cried Lewis "Ten thousand dollars isn't worth all of this!"
"I don't think a way even exists"
"There has to be a way" Said stubborn Lorelei
"Maybe you can find it. You, not I."
"Some help you are, what time is it anyway?"
"Too late to get any work done today."

Then like lightning an idea hit
"That's it! That's it! We can make it!"
Lewis looked at her confused.
"Make what?" He demanded.
"The world Lewis!" Lorelei expanded.
Confused and preturbed Lewis followed Lorelei to her house.
"Do you still have that pocketwatch, the one shaped like a mouse?"
"Yes it's in my room." Lewis answered confused.
"I wonder if that'll work." Lorelei mused.
"Go and get it." She said. "And meet me in the attic. I have an idea."
Lewis rolled his eyes, she was being dramatic.

Later that night and into the wee hours of the morning
Lewis and Lorelei were working away slaving and toiling
For hours Lorelei tinkered and Lewis wrote
A scratchy plan, a screwdriver, and a note.
They worked through thunder, lightning and rain
Until Lewis couldn't move a pencil
And Lorelei squinted through the pain
Before the two could say a word
Down came their heads and snores were heard.


Okay so I'm taking a break. Coffee or something is needed and watch is almost over. I shall update later...mwahaha but please tell me what you think.

Well the Christmas holidays were actually a lot of fun for me. See, I started dating this guy right, great guy his name is Kyle, and apparently his family really likes me.

Go figure.

Anyway we spent christmas with his folks and family and it was actually a lot of fun. He got a lot of wonderful presents wherein the last year or so he hasn't gotten any from his family, and I made out with some myself, I don't know why to be honest.
The food his grandmother made was really good too.
Anyway I know I'm being vague but oh well.
Today is the day that my happy butt goes and see my daddy. YAY!

I'm so excited.

I'll update when I get back.

-Myakka-