Creative Writing Ideas, Storylines, Diamonds and Pearls

...So Nisse walked out into the eerily pleasant, Tuesday air with his oilskin satchel in hopes that this place would lead him to brighter days. A new, enormous city sprawled out and towered over him..much like the merciless Shades of the Iryllisian [Ih-rihl-is-ee-uhn] Empire that destroyed his home seven years ago.

Copyright (c) Callum Chester 2009.


13th April, 1999.

I wake at a quarter past eight, hoping to hell that the last three years of my life have been nothing but a nightmare – just some hellish creation, conjured up in the deepest chasms of my twisted imagination. But of course, I open my eyes to face my familiar, disheartening reality. Same four walls. Same barred window. Same bitter taste in my mouth. It’d been no dream. It was real, all right. As real as the stale air I breathe tirelessly – day in, day out. It seems such a chore these days. Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it.

I mean, what kind of life do I have? I wake up, and I sit here in my kennel until she comes. She takes me to a room with a large granite table – a lot like one I used to have. Hell, that seems an age ago now. Anyway, she makes me sit down and fixes me a coffee, and then we talk. Well, I say “talk”. I’m not much of a conversationalist these days. I don’t have an awful lot to say. Especially to a goddamned sociologist like her. What right has she got? Poking around in my head. But she’s my only link to the outside world – so I get what I can out of her. Soccer scores, news updates... and information about them. Not that she’s ever willing to tell me much. She only ever wants to talk about my thoughts and feelings. It’s like she thinks I’m crazy...

Can music or movies really describe and define your life? Some say yes, some say no. I think..maybe. Most of my favorite songs are my favorite songs because they help to comfort me or make me happy. What are the top ten songs that describe your life? They don't necessarily have to be from the genre that you like, they just have to describe you. For example, KEEP HOLDING ON is a very inspirational song. I would say anyone could relate to the song because in order to get anywhere in life you had to hold on through tough times. Another example is ATONEMENT. This is a movie that could define someones life. It's a depressing and realistic story. There are also those songs and movies you wish your life was like. PRIDE AND PREJUDICE, with Elizabeth and Darcy, is one of the most classic love story's. I would dare to say many people wish they had a love like that. I also bet many people wish they had a friendship like the one established in Wicked between Elphaba and Glinda described in FOR GOOD. But can someone go through life wishing it was this or that movie or cooping with every other song? I bet they could. It might not be the best thing, but its plausible. Everyone uses the media as a sort of cooping device. I would agree this is good from time to time. But you cant live in a dream. There is so much discussion over the topics of optimism or pessimism...

What i have amounted to? i don't know. the first word that comes to mind is, nothing. then, a disappointment, then, maybe i affected someones life for the better. What have i done with my life? what have you done with yours? think about it, really think about it. what are you proud of? what makes you smile? what makes your life worth living? honestly, I'm not sure. i have amounted to a confused person that doesn't know themself. i haven't really done anything with my life. I'm proud I'm still alive, i guess. seeing or hearing nice things makes me smile. seeing other people cry makes me cry, even if i do not know the reason the tears are being shed. i would say what makes my life worth living at the end of the day is hope. i have hope, or i dare to dream, that i may still be able to affect someones life for the good. nevertheless... life can be so ... disappointing. i know it cant be perfect or easy, but some good would be preferable. i mean, i have a mom and a dad, and i house! that's lucky, that's a lot. but I'm still human: i still grovel in self pity. my best friend died, i still do not know how or why. no one understands me. i have no one to go to. everything leads, somehow, to yet an even bigger disappointment. i don't remember the last time i was proud of something i did, or my life. i don't remember the last day that went by where i didn't cry. i know i should feel lucky and happy, but i don't, i cant...

What I feel is for a lifetime, is forever The love I have for you will last, and become bigger Than the mountains and the trees, it won’t die, never The world will end; the skies will fall, but we won't wither Our love burns more that the burning fire Our love stands tall like a church spire I can feel it, giving me a fever and ire It’s more than lust, and stronger than desire We are one, you are the stream and I’m the flume In a day, I’m a the light, and you are the gloom On earth, I’m the grace and you are the doom And I swear, I knew I love you, when I was in the womb This love can never be lost, never be torn I feel it in my blood; I fee it in my bone I think about you before I see the morn You know? I even loved you before I was born (*Please clear this text before entering your Storyline.)

Whenever I see the vastness of the sky, my whole existence is soak into unfathomable desperation and gloominess of how far I have strayed away from you. It is true, running away from you is like rossing the street blindfolded, in short- suicidal. It's really hard. My arms reach back to you, but my feet are dragging me farther.

ANALEKTI - ODABRANI ODLOMCI IZ JOŠ UVEK, NEDOVRŠENOG ROMANA 'ROMANTIK' - Reci mi nešto Estela! – izreče Adonis na onaj samo, samo njemu svojstven, način, sa stegnutim očima, kao da se brani od jakog svetla ili velike sreće, sa prigušenim osmehom kakav obično poseduje izrazito srećan i smiren čovek, i blagim glasom kojim kao da želi da izmoli nekakav velik odgovor kako bi ga ona dočekala sa onim, njoj svojstvenim, šeretizovanim i ispitujućim pogledom osvetljenim svim jarkim bojama života u velegradu, kakvim kao da želi da prikaže kako prepoznaje njegovo pitanje. - Da li je ovo... ovo što nam se događa, nekakva magična slika... muzika... ne znam miris noći, ili već...? * * * Pripadnost mestu nije uvek određena kod putnika-romantika. Leon je takav stav u priličnoj meri istakao pri pismu koje je uputio Sanji pri kojem je napisao: “ Blizo sam. Nalazim se zapadno od Vrata naroda, severno od centra starog sveta, istočno od centra novog sveta i južno od mraka i studi, da, južno od lažnog kraja sveta. Osećam podno mene zemaljski potok okružen paklenim rečicama a ispred mene vidim rajsko jezero. Zvezde su mi povremeno blizo a povremeno jako daleko, uglavnom su tu gde jesu...

CHAPTER 1 Soft voices came from within the gently swirling mist. "It is time for The One to be born again. The Others have grown strong again." "Do you think now is the right time?” "I think we should wait another couple of years before we set things in motion.” ”No, he is right. If we wait any longer, they will never be together.” ”That will be the end before the fight even begins.” ”So who is she going to?” ”Make the wrong choice and doom us all.” ”I know who she will go to. That couple, it is their time.” ”Their strength in magic will help.” ”And later he will be there to help The One.” ”Yes. Is he ready for her to arrive?” ”He will be there; he is ready now.” ”Are you sure?” ”I have been watching him; it is time.” ”Better do it now, she is about to give birth.” They all lifted their hands and released The One back to the people. ”You know The One is stronger than ever?” ”I think that is what is going to be needed this time, my friend.” The mist returned to quiet. They had all been there so long they could feel the comfort of the quiet. Each cast their eyes down, watching The One being born. A short while later, another joined them in the mist. ”Will she be alright?” the new voice in the mist asked. ”She already has a new protector; they are connected.” ”Connected?” there was a soft murmur in the mist...

Rolling Stone Magazine Readers, Writers, Editors, Artists, Industry Professionals, and Fans, COME TOGETHER, RIGHT NOW, OVER ME! Here we are all, "ON THE COVER of the ROLLING STONE!" http://www.rollingstonedreams.com From The Editor of ROLLING STONE MAGAZINE: "When the magazine started in 1967, I didnt understand the importance of a cover and all the things it could do. It not only defines a magazines identity, but greatly determines sales and also confers a special status to the cover subject. There were some odd choices in the early years, but on the whole they were adventurous, and often powerful we simply werent driven by newsstand considerations in the first ten years. The cover of November 9th, 1967 was a wonderful, revealing accident. The photograph of John Lennon was a publicity still from a mostly forgotten film by Richard Lester called How I Won the War. The Rolling Stone logo was an unfinished draft of a design by San Francisco psychedelicposter artist Rick Griffin, who was planning to refine it until I used his sketch in order to get it to the printer on time.) In hindsight, it was prescient of us to feature John Lennon on the first cover. That one image speaks volumes about the marriage of music and movies and politics that came to define Rolling Stone." Jann Wenner RSM Founder Wenner Media

Part 3: I felt stuffed and tired as I walked back towards my bedroom. Lying down on my bed I quickly fell asleep. Believe it or not, but 5 long years went by without looking inside that old tin. I was 18 years old and I was about to head off to college. Packing up all my stuff I came across the old tin once again, right where I had left it. I felt a moment of nostalgia remembering that day up in the attic. So many things had happened in my life since that day I came home from the hospital. Both my brothers were killed in a car accident, my father left, and my mother was diagnosed with lung cancer. I felt so fortunate that I was able to get a scholarship to school. If I hadn’t received one I’d probably be working at McDonald’s for the rest of my life. For some crazy reason I decided to put the tin (which still had that strange metal like object inside) into my stuff to take to college. About 2 hours later I had finished packing and headed downstairs. My mother was sitting there with a sad look on her face, knowing that I would be gone for a longtime. We talked for awhile and then I headed out the door to make my way to the train station. It was a long 5 hour train ride to college, which was located in Old Mill, Virginia. I had always enjoyed history which is why I picked that as my major. Finding my way to my dorm room was a pain. It seemed like there were 800 drunk kids that just wouldn’t get out of my way...