Just a heads up

I started a new blog over at http://juteka2.blogspot.com/

So, yeah. Check it out, It's no masterpiece but yeah.

Down With The Sickness (v.3)

New version of my story for English. The newly added section (at the end) has been italic-ised, like this, for easier identification. Read it and figure out how out of it I am from how stupid it is.





I glance at my watch, quarter-to-three, great, the game doesn’t start for another 15 minutes. I walk faster, I don’t care how stupid I look, that bitch already took everything from me, my kids, my car, hell, even my pride. I don’t really care, as long as I have clothes on my back and a heartbeat, I’m fine.

I peer at the time again, ten-to. The streets are awfully empty for a Sunday afternoon, but then again it is Superbowl Sunday, it’s eerily quiet despite the shuffling of garbage in the next alley, I wonder what it is, a stray cat? The garbage men? Working on the Superbowl? I doubt that, I chuckle at the idea.

Now I hear mumbling and growling coming from the alley as I approach it. A drunken lunatic who’s too into the spirit of today? “Whatever it is, don’t look,” I say to myself. “I might piss him off.”

Damn my curiosity. I quickly peer into the dark alley in the very corner of my periphery. I was right in my assumption. About 30 feet into the alley is a shadowed figure, appearing to struggle to stand. He turns, facing the street I’m walking in “Ah crap,” I mumble to myself. I know he saw me. I hear bare feet slapping the concrete. I break into a full sprint, I’ll be damned if I’m going to let this guy make this day any worse.

Right at the edge of my field of vision, I see a thin black thing flailing about. Crap, my shoelace! Just as I realise that my shoelace is undone, I trip over it. I haven’t a chance recuperate from the fall as the maniac is on my back clawing at my shoulder blades, I manage to throw him off and roll onto my back as he lunges onto me again. I throw my arms up in defence and close my eyes tightly. I feel a sudden pain and open my eyes to the man with his teeth dug deep into my arm. I notice how dirty his skin is, and how he appears to drool like an infant, and how his eyes are extremely bloodshot.

I punch the man fair in the temple; he hardly flinches. I see half a hockey stick lying next to a garbage can. I grab it and swing with all my might at the man’s head, I hear his skull crack from the impact of the blow, his teeth also loosen on my arm. I pull it out of his salivating jaws and jump to my feet, I don’t stop running until I reach my apartment. My lungs are burning, I’m hardly able to breathe, I see stars and pass out, falling on the couch.

I awake several hours later to screaming and cheering coming from next-door, Damn, I slept through the game, I might as well see who won. As I grab the remote I notice that the bite on my arm has swollen up and the surrounding skin is a dark purple. “I should probably get that checked out..,” I think to myself. I flip to the 24/7 news channel, and notice the time: 7:14. “Hmm, I’ll go tomorrow.’ I change into a pair of boxers and a singlet, my usual sleepwear. I then climb into bed and fall asleep by twenty-past-seven.

I wake up about an hour later with something forcing itself up my throat , I tumble out of the bed and crawl to the adjacent bathroom and put my head over the toilet bowl just as a large, constant stream of bile and lunch shoots from my mouth, This goes on for about 10 seconds until it suddenly ceases, I hit the flush button without even glancing at the mess I made. I turn to the sink to clean myself, and notice the bite again, it looks worse than it did an hour ago: it now has a small trail of pus oozing from the holes. I open the medicine cabinet to wrap it up. I do a double take when I notice that there’s something wrong with my face in the split second I see my face in the mirror. Upon the second glance at the reflection, I see a paler complexion with heavy rings around its eyes looking back at me. I continue to wrap my arm and go back to bed, struggling to do so, I did some damage to my knees when I crawled into the bathroom.

The whole vomiting episode happens once more, only this time I’m sure I have a fever. After cleaning myself of vomit again, I check my temperature; 40°^c. Wow, I’m definitely taking tomorrow off. I struggle into bed again, now with all joints aching. I fall asleep pretty fast this time.

I awake once again in the morning, this time to the sound of the alarm clock. I feel kind of better now, though I still have the fever from last night. I’m still going to call in sick, just to be safe. I climb out, but collapse as soon as I try to stand. “Oh God, my legs!” I punch them a few times in a failed attempt to bring feeling back into them again. I drag myself to the phone and call the emergency services. I sit against the back of the couch, getting increasingly dizzy as I wait. The paramedics burst through the door, this is the last thing I see before I pass out.

Distant screams and cries draw me back into consciousness. I open my eyes to a blurred vision, everything has a kind of bloodstained, red tinge to it, and for some messed up reason, I want to kill someone, anyone. I try to call out for someone, but all that comes out is a mixture of mumbles and growls, I also keep salivating uncontrollably. I arise from the bed, still growling and gurgling, the saliva rolling down my chin and onto the floor, I see that it also has blood mixed into it. I suddenly lurch forward, throwing up the contents of my stomach yet again, only this time, a mixture of bile and my own blood, burning my oesophagus on the way up. I stagger towards the door of the ward and collapse after a few steps.

I push open the door and see a horrific sight; nurses, doctors and patients all attacking one another. I look to my left, this one’s distracted. I grab hold of his ankle and pull myself within biting distance and latch on. I see his free foot fly toward my face, everything goes blurry for a bit. I feel blood start dripping from my nose and mouth, a hard knock to the face and I hardly felt it. The doctor grabs a folded wheelchair and swings it right onto my cranium, collapsing my eye socket, I’m now blind in my right eye; I think I can see it swinging freely with my remaining eye. Well, at least it might be, it’s getting hard to tell as everything gets more red. I feel a sudden force slam down onto the back of my neck, and the world looks like it’s spinning. It stops after I bump into the wall and see my body lying motionlessly in the middle of the hall. How am I still alive? My head’s gone. I feel so helpless as I watch many stagger past me, until one accidentally kicks me, sending me rolling through a door way. From the glimpses I catch, this room has a whole wall missing, facing outside. I keep rolling towards the edge, gripping the splintered remains of the floor with my teeth. I clench down too hard and feel most of my teeth shatter, losing grip. I feel cold air against the remains of my spine as the abandoned roadway becomes more and more large and closer. The tip of my neck-stump starting to shatter against the road is the last thing I feel before nothing.

What’s happening? Why can’t I see? How am I still thinking, my brain must be like mush on the road. This shouldn’t be possible. I should be dead, gone. I guess I’m stuck in this darkness until my sanity rots away? Great..

Incase you hadn't noticed.

Redid my blog layout, looks pretty sexy, right?

Down With The Sickness (v.2)

I glance at my watch, quarter-to-three, great, the game doesn’t start for another 15 minutes. I walk faster, I don’t care how stupid I look, that bitch already took everything from me; my kids, my car, hell, even my pride. I don’t really care, as long as I have clothes on my back and a heartbeat, I’m fine.

I peer at the time again, ten-to. The streets are awfully empty for a Sunday afternoon, but then again it is Superbowl Sunday, it’s eerily quiet despite the shuffling of garbage in the next alley, I wonder what it is, a stray cat? The garbage men? Working on the Superbowl? I doubt that, I chuckle at the idea.

Now I hear mumbling and growling coming from the alley as I approach it. A drunken lunatic who’s too into the spirit of today? “Whatever it is, don’t look,” I say to myself “I might piss him off”

Damn my curiosity. I quickly peer into the dark alley in the very corner of my periphery. I was right in my assumption. About 30 feet into the alley is a shadowed figure, appearing to struggle to stand. He turns, facing the street I’m walking in “Ah crap,” I mumble to myself. I know he saw me. I hear bare feet slapping the concrete. I break into a full sprint, I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let this guy make this day any worse.

Right at the edge of my field of vision, I see a thin black thing flailing about. Crap, my shoelace! Just as I realise that my shoelace is undone, I trip over it. I hadn’t a chance recuperate from the fall as the maniac was on my back clawing at my shoulder blades, I manage to throw him off and roll onto my back as he lunges onto me again. I throw my arms up in defence and close my eyes tightly. I feel a sudden pain and open my eyes to the man with his teeth dug deep into my arm. I notice how dirty his skin is, and how he appears to drools like an infant, and how his eyes are extremely bloodshot.

I punch the man fair in the temple; he hardly flinches, I see half a hockey stick lying next to a garbage can. I grab it and swing with all my might at the man’s head, I hear his skull crack from the impact of the blow, his teeth also loosen on my arm. I pull it out of his salivating jaws and jump to my feet, I don’t stop running until I reach my apartment.

My lungs are burning, I’m hardly able to breathe, I see stars and pass out, falling on the couch.

I awake several hours later to the neighbours screaming and cheering, Damn, I slept through the game, I might as well see who won. As I grab the remote I notice that the bite on my arm has swollen up and the surrounding skin is a dark purple. “I should probably get that checked out..” I think to myself. I flip to the 24/7 news channel, and notice the time: 7:14. “Hmm, I’ll go tomorrow.’ I change into a pair of boxers and a singlet, my usual sleepwear. I then climb into bed and fall asleep by twenty-past-seven.

I wake up about an hour later with something forcing itself up my throat , I tumble out of the bed and crawl to the adjacent bathroom and put my head over the toilet bowl just as a large, constant stream of bile and lunch shoots from my mouth, This goes on for about 10 seconds until it suddenly ceases, I hit the flush button without even glancing at the mess I made. I turn to the sink to clean myself, and notice the bite again, it looks worse than it did an hour ago: it now has a small trail of pus oozing from the holes. I open the medicine cabinet to wrap it up. I do a double take when I notice that there’s something wrong with my face in the split second I see my face in the mirror. Upon the second glance at the reflection, I see a paler complexion with heavy rings around its eyes looking back at me. I continue to wrap my arm and go back to bed, struggling to do so, I did some damage to my knees when I crawled into the bathroom.

The whole vomiting episode happens once more, only this time I’m sure I have a fever. After cleaning myself of vomit again, I check my temperature; 105°^F. Wow, I’m definitely taking tomorrow off. I struggle into bed again, now with all joints aching. I fall asleep pretty fast this time.

I awake once again in the morning, this time to the sound of the alarm clock. I feel kind of better now, though I still have the fever from last night. I’m still going to call in sick, just to be safe. I climb out, but collapse as soon as I try to stand. “Oh god, my legs!” I punch them a few times in a failed attempt to bring feeling back into them again. I drag myself to the phone and call the emergency services. I sat against the back of the couch, getting increasingly dizzier as I wait. The paramedics burst through the door, this is the last thing I see before I pass out.

Distant screams and cries draw me back into consciousness. I open my eyes to a blurred vision, everything has a kind of bloodstained, red tinge to it, and for some messed up reason, I want to kill someone, anyone. I try to call out for someone, but all that comes out is a mixture of mumbles and growls, I also keep salivating uncontrollably. I arise out of the bed, still growling and gurgling, the saliva rolling down my chin and onto the floor, I see that it also has blood mixed into it. I suddenly lurch forward, throwing up the contents of my stomach yet again, only this time, a mixture of bile and my own blood, burning my oesophagus on the way up. I stagger towards the door of the ward and collapse after a few steps. This is the last thing I remember before everything goes black one last time.

Random Rambling

August 13 (my birthday) is the Christian Feast Day, a coincidence, giving my stature..

H.G Wells dies on my Birthday, 49 years before I'm born.

49 divided by 7 is 7.

7 is the most powerfully magical number according to JK Rowling.

The are 7 main stars in the constellations of both The Big Dipper and Orion.

Orion is one of my favorite songs by Metallica.

This is the 7th line with text on it.

The fraction ¹⁄₄₉ is a repeating decimal with a period of 42.

6 x 7 is 42, too.

Too..

Two..

2..

42 divided by 2 is 21.

21 + 2 is 23.

Because I'm sick of everyone freaking out..

I know this is a little late but, just felt the need to clarify:

The world is not going end on the 21st of December, 2012, that is just the end of ANOTHER Mayan calendar cycle, the fourth to be exact, so saying that the end of world is coming because the cycle's ending is implying that there have been THREE previous "Doomsdays". The only reason there was even a 'Doomsday" to come with the cycle ending was for greedy, fascist, money-whoring companies to make even MORE money by promoting the shit.

As much as you'd all hate to hear it, you've all been played like fools just so you all become paranoid, and spend all your money to survive the upcoming "Apocalypse".

I apologize that this seemingly reassuring speech turned into yet another anti-corporation hippie rant, But feel I had to say it. :)

Shit's keeping me awake at night..

Now I know that in my last post I said I have pretty much given up on everything positive. But for some reason, she is still on my mind. I can't explain why, and it's really driving me insane, well even MORE insane.

I wish I knew why my mind is implying she's important enough to keep me from sleeping every night...

Maybe it's because I probably won't see her again, I dunno..

I just wish I could understand my own mind sometimes...