Really? Is there any more fitting way to end this? I mean, for reals, "Z?" Of course, for me, it's going to be zombies. And I can never explain it, that fascination. I will admit, as of late, my interest has been wanning. I mean, seriously. I've been such an avid watch of The Walking Dead. But this season? I gimmicks kept coming and coming it was less about creativity and more about broadcasting 101. I remember hearing about how soap operas only got interesting before a commercial. Made sense, so you'd not walk away. But their storylines were in the 100s and they were always evovling. TWD? Look, three "almost deads" in six weeks! And then they did it as a season finale. After a much ballyhooed exit from the season that promised an hour and half of the show. I later realized, it was the same fifty minute program, stretched out over commercials. Yeah, broadcasting 101. Not only that, the commercials! The same ones! Over and over! Like we...
A majority of my entries, it seems, have been nonfiction about myself and my opinions. This afternoon, I'd like to take a moment and do a brief sketch...as requested from my writing exercise book-Something titled "The Closet." THE CLOSET Cindy loved the apartment just as much as she loved her boyfriend. It fit their personalities perfectly. The ceilings were exceptionally high, resulting in doorways that he did not have to bob his head through and had the wonderful added treat of small windows at the top that were opened copper stilts on the doorframes. It was the stuff that writers dreamed of. From the modern computer, they could look down the hallway, across the red floorboards and see the original stained glass from 1881. She could not just walk away from the place. She could not just walk away from him. But he insisted. She appreciated, what she could, of his candor. He had everything neatly packaged up as soon as he spoke of the break up. It was as if he did it prio...
I suppose there is ome truth in this-some belief that people who like certain things like other certain things equally. It would make sense. Colors have long been linked to symbols of emotion, and since they are equivalent in some cultures, well, there you have it. The importance of stating your like your favorite color. However, as I have grown older, the colors have changed. I'm not as to why. There was a time, when everything had to be blue, including my Slurpee. I couldn't eat raspberries in real life, but dang, I loved my blue razzberry lollipops. But, once, as I got older, i found a green sweater that cut me a better view and I noticed, I kinda like green a bit. And no one held me to it. No one beat me up for liking both green and blue. I was into both and there was nothing. No violence, no color-guard to make me like one color. What I did notice, however was a natural drawing to a specific spectrum. Blues, green and blacks tended to naturally pull my eyes to them. It was...
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