I haven't posted in a while, sorry guys, I have been busy with work and school.... but luckily I am on break, since the 18th! I have been writing and reviewing a lot of stuff on Figment as well ^_^
Anyways, I can't believe The Walking Dead isn't coming back on till February 10th!!!! Too long to wait dudes.
Also, I want to go to Comicon next year.. March 2013, who else does?!?!?!?!? I can't wait to go, if I can! There are so many people I know that will be there!!!! I feel like such a nerd, but that's because I am one, which I love <3 Who else is a nerd?
http://www.emeraldcitycomicon.com/
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Virus
Here is a poem my friend wrote a while ago... it is really awesome! (She had it all in one paragraph, but to make it easier to read, I just split up the sentences.)
It spreads to every corner of your body.
Every limb feels heavy with it, your brain processes slow, your mouth goes dry, and nausea churns in your stomach.
Sensors go into under-drive, and over-drive, simultaneously.
Things jumble in your mind, and nothing is easy to understand.
It spreads to every corner of your body.
You find it hard to breathe, you force your chest to rise and fall with large gulps of air, hoping they will steady you.
Every movement of the world around you startles you out of this painful reverie, but only for a second.
Back and forth, back and forth, between awake and unconscious.
Your blood feels like molasses in your veins.
And when you force yourself to breathe, the breath spreads out like the virus, through your blood to your hair follicles, your fingertips, your Achilles tendons.
It burns like fire as it fights, feels like a million million little stabbing knives, fighting, struggling against the virus.
But still the virus holds you down, constricting your throat, tying your stomach in sickening knots.
It holds you down, deadening you, suffocating you.
The virus hurts in its deadness, and tears come to your eyes.
This is how the virus works.
This is how panic kills.
It spreads to every corner of your body.
Every limb feels heavy with it, your brain processes slow, your mouth goes dry, and nausea churns in your stomach.
Sensors go into under-drive, and over-drive, simultaneously.
Things jumble in your mind, and nothing is easy to understand.
It spreads to every corner of your body.
You find it hard to breathe, you force your chest to rise and fall with large gulps of air, hoping they will steady you.
Every movement of the world around you startles you out of this painful reverie, but only for a second.
Back and forth, back and forth, between awake and unconscious.
Your blood feels like molasses in your veins.
And when you force yourself to breathe, the breath spreads out like the virus, through your blood to your hair follicles, your fingertips, your Achilles tendons.
It burns like fire as it fights, feels like a million million little stabbing knives, fighting, struggling against the virus.
But still the virus holds you down, constricting your throat, tying your stomach in sickening knots.
It holds you down, deadening you, suffocating you.
The virus hurts in its deadness, and tears come to your eyes.
This is how the virus works.
This is how panic kills.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Zombie Movies
Which zombie movie/s are you most looking towards?!?
I think I am most looking forward to World War Z ^____^
I think I am most looking forward to World War Z ^____^
Poem
Here is one!
The zombies are most anxious about the graveyard
Before midnight arises, for they make the
Most petrifying of wails and screams.
Sounding as if they are being boiled alive
In their own ghastliness, of their slimy and
Putrid green skin.
They dare not gander about the graveyard
Before the dead of night arises, for they
Will be engulfed by the sunlight which
Sweeps across the grave stones,
Standing like forgotten and mysterious
Relics.
They are tremendously afraid of the sunlight,
For it completely obliterates them; causing their skins
To melt ferociously under
The searing heat of the sun,
And their bows to spew out disgusting
And putrid mucus.
When the crow squawks upon the Oak
Tree in the grave yard, the Zombies
Are wise to know that the dead of night
Has come to being.
They ferociously slash their coffins
To pieces and begin to come forth from their graves.
The shadows of the zombies spill vengeance and evil
Upon the grave yard, as they come forth from
Their graves.
The zombies are most anxious about the graveyard
Before midnight arises, for they make the
Most petrifying of wails and screams.
Sounding as if they are being boiled alive
In their own ghastliness, of their slimy and
Putrid green skin.
They dare not gander about the graveyard
Before the dead of night arises, for they
Will be engulfed by the sunlight which
Sweeps across the grave stones,
Standing like forgotten and mysterious
Relics.
They are tremendously afraid of the sunlight,
For it completely obliterates them; causing their skins
To melt ferociously under
The searing heat of the sun,
And their bows to spew out disgusting
And putrid mucus.
When the crow squawks upon the Oak
Tree in the grave yard, the Zombies
Are wise to know that the dead of night
Has come to being.
They ferociously slash their coffins
To pieces and begin to come forth from their graves.
The shadows of the zombies spill vengeance and evil
Upon the grave yard, as they come forth from
Their graves.
Poem
This is poem #4 or #5 I believe.
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/infection-6/
Not exactly a zombie poem, but could be taken as one.
burned up pictures and hot painful thoughts
instead of my brain it's my heart that rots
bacteria fester and infections abound
I try to scream but no one can hear a sound
I tell myself it's going to be okay
I tell myself it's going to be fine
but i spend my today obsessing over tomorrow
happiness smothered by aching tons of sorrow
they're building up and strangling me
the tears of mine that others cannot see
things run together like a river with no rocks
colors blend and the resulting black mocks
mocks my sorrow and turns it bright
and that sick way is how I see the light.
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/infection-6/
Not exactly a zombie poem, but could be taken as one.
burned up pictures and hot painful thoughts
instead of my brain it's my heart that rots
bacteria fester and infections abound
I try to scream but no one can hear a sound
I tell myself it's going to be okay
I tell myself it's going to be fine
but i spend my today obsessing over tomorrow
happiness smothered by aching tons of sorrow
they're building up and strangling me
the tears of mine that others cannot see
things run together like a river with no rocks
colors blend and the resulting black mocks
mocks my sorrow and turns it bright
and that sick way is how I see the light.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Shaun of the Dead
Shaun of the Dead is an awesome movie!!!! I would share some of the quotes, but most of the funny ones have swearing in them, so I won't.... but here is a cool picture!
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