Contact Info / Websites
For a good cause of course.
To raise enough money for W-P-S's film "AnusBoy: The Movie."
If you are interested in buying my soul, here is the link:
Militant...your country salutes you.
Gunshot to the head.
Soft blows/heavy blows. Low pressure/high pressure.
Knives. Rocks. Teeth. Scent of blood.
Rage. Scream. Burn. Inflict.
The superior. Alpha and Omega. The black novel.
Violence. Violence. Violence. Violence.
VIOLENCE. VIOLENCE. VIOLENCE. VIOLENCE.
First and final answer. The theory of everything.
Dirt is the third flash I have submitted to Newgrounds. Unlike the previous two, It took me several days to finish. I'm aware it isn't the best quality of flash, but i am just a newb when it comes to this, which is why I have made this news post. I need you, the reader, to please check out my submission and review it. I really want to get the most out of this one in terms of what I did wrong and what I need to improve on. If you do decide to check it out: Thank you so much! :D in advance.
From the moment you are born. Innocence.
Everything experienced for the first time. you won't get that feeling again.
Grade school-given freedom to roll in the dirt. For a limited time.
The older you get, the more humiliating it is to roll in the dirt.
Self-conscious of image. A decade without your soul.
Write in middle school. Write in high school. Write in college. Write at work.
Same five paragraphs. Same five sentences. Same transitions.
The days get shorter. Dreams of backpack vacations and a family.
By now its too late. Your spirit drifts away.
And before you know it. you become one with the dirt.
it goes something like this:
Doooooo doo dooooooo doo doo doo doo
Doooooo doo dooooooo doo doo doo doo
Temperatures keep rising...past few weeks the spirits of the west have laid dormant, only to come out between the fissures of Grand Canyon Reserve. The Native American reserve keeps suffering severely from a drought leading to their greatest mean of production, sheep related items, to drop considerably. With no grass to feed the sheep, mortality rate of the animal has considerably increased. For the time being the scattered tribes have formed a coalition in order to maintain whatever is left...along with some help from a local weather analysis team. Two of its members noticed a sign of hope in the distance while waiting for a bus. "Hey Paul you see those clouds in the east? Looks like a storm is brewing." "Bout time Tim...these rain dances were getting to me, just the other day I had the urge to perform in front of the water cooler hoping for something to drink." After a couple of seconds Tim laughed silently "hey Paul, maybe after the storm you can get one of those Native Americans to sew your suit...its made of sheep wool after all." Winds began to pick up as the storm approached and the smell of rain increased. To start up a conversation Paul recalled a news story "Tim you heard anything of the family lost at sea?" "Huh? Nah...explain." "Well about a week ago to celebrate their son's graduation, this family decided to take a yacht trip to some nearby island planning to spend the weekend...they haven't returned and the coast guards think they are lost at sea." "Bummer... hey Paul, looks like the winds have died down, better for us I don't want to get wet." "Well Tim you shouldn't have rain danced." As time progressed, the dark cloud wall moved at an irrational speed, sometimes fast...sometimes slow, as if it couldn't make up its mind about something. In between conversations of pop culture and viral videos the duo was having, the winds began to increase violently. "Here it comes Tim! Take out some paper bags!" Looking like fools wearing paper bags, Tim and Paul witnessed the supercell blow by at a remarkable speed without any precipitation. "What the hell?" they both said in unison. After the bus ride, the duo met up with a friend of theirs who told them great news about the family "yeah man they found the yacht out of gas after a huge storm...if it wasn't for that storm they woulda died from dehydration."