My only aim is to move forward.

Ok, so here's the deal, boggerites. You may have noticed by now, that I love setting goals I can't complete and starting projects I will inevitably fail, SO I'M BOUT TO DO ANOTHER ONE.

Um, I sort of accidentally wrote this song about zombies from the perspective of a zombie very briefly before I realized zombies were becoming the new big thing. Then all of a sudden, two years later I hear people covering this other song (none of whom actually said it was a cover) written from the perspective of a zombie that it turns out was written a year before I wrote mine, by a guy who's considerably more famous, making me feel completely unoriginal.

So I look up this Jonathan Coulton guy to see what his deal is and I find out his music is pretty decent and he did this songwriting project called "Thing a Week" where he started in September or something and wrote/arranged a song every week for 52 weeks.

I figured since A. Now that I know who he is and we've both written songs from the perspective of zombies, came first, and we both write not-completely-serious songs, I'm bound to look like I'm copying him to someone anyway. B. I've been "writing" songs for 3 years and I've only completed 9 (although I've arranged at least twice that many) and C. I need to get in the swing of writing more, I'd do it too.

And since my personal New Year starts Friday, I'm going to start then. Hopefully I'll have a mic by then.

Turns out blogger won't let me upload audio, but tumblr will. I just don't want to use tumblr because you can't comment on tumblr blogs. I'm gonna check wordpress and see if they'll let me do the audio deal. then we'll see where to go from there

-I swear I'll finish that stupid potato man story before the end of the month.

http://theycallmemarlon.tumblr.com/

Titles

I've always had sort of an obsession with the night sky, I don't know why. Maybe everyone does. Sometimes I used to think I saw shooting stars but it turned out to actually be light reflecting off of spiderwebs as I walked by.

Tonight I'm going to watch my fourth or fifth meteor shower ever.

hopefully

One cant help but think there's something magical about celestial phenomena, but sometimes you look into the sky at night and it's so beautiful there's nothing you could possibly wish for, it just feels like you already have everything. But I wouldn't mind getting something actually useful from my parents on my birthday.

-Marlon

I have officially decided

I want a novelty baritone ukulele.

I didn't any ukulele for a while because everyone who plays guitar and then learns how to play the "quirky alternate instrument" picks the ukulele, but I had a fascinating dream.

Also, I have an addiction to new instruments.

-Marlon

You know what's worse than not blogging for a while?

Only posting blogs about how you haven't blogged in a while.

So I still need to watch die hard, I have the whole frikkin tertalogy just sitting on my desk. Haven't watched a one.

You know what I did do? I turned in an essay for the first time since 2007!! Proud of myself? Extremely proud of myself! It makes me feel like I have a future and whatnot.

I think about the future a lot; I have to, I'm a procrastinator. I don't want to say I get worried, because I don't but kindof concerned sometimes. Does that make any sense? I don't know.

Who has a story to finish?
-Marlon

Failblogz0rz

I am filled with shame
So I'm writing this haiku
I'm sorry, Blogger

-I swear I'll treat you better

What up?

this is a blog for today. I'm doing other stuff right now, but I have to keep with the deadline, I can't have only 28 points, that's like, February status. I'll conclude my story tomorrow.

I have lots of stuff to do now.

schoolschoolschool

What?

So I just realized that the stories will be ending as soon as they get back to their original owners, which is tomorrow, which makes me sad. Oh well here's the second-to-last chapter of Mandog's story.

"Life isn't always fair" my parents would tell me, well you don't even have to be living anymore to be screwed over; my name is Derrick Safferfrack, and I've been dead for five years now. I guess to learn about the situation I'm in I should probably tell you how I got where I am now. Back when I had my own body I was led an underwhelming life. I worked from nine to five, and my "hobby" was to sit on the computer every night wishing there was more to life. Twenty-seven years of doing the least possible and hoping for more and in one day I was wishing I could have all of that back.

It was Autumn. And Thursday. I hated Thursdays. And honestly I hated Autumn. It was the calm before winter and the cool after the summer months. It was so... bland. It reminded me of myself. And I hated it for that. So on this particular Thursday, there was an accident. No I wasn't involved, but it would still change my life. Chilesia. That was her name and she was the most beautiful woman in the world. Or at least at Aunt Jemima High. I taught there, as she was a TA working on her teaching degree. She has the most lovely ebony skin and perfect hair. I loved her the day I met her. So the accident. One day while I worked at my computer (I spent most of my time playing Galaxy of Space Quest, even at work) I heard an explosion outside. It was Chilesia.... oh god.... Little did I know, that following this tragedy in less than 24 hours would be my own death....

Death itself was quick and uneventful by large; it was the afterward that I was unprepared for. You imagine heaven and hell, but it's something so grand by comparison there is no way to describe it. I was in what appeared to be a large and infinite warehouse, it was completely empty aside from the other dozen or so people near enough to see. The others were walking all in the same direction, almost as if they had somewhere they needed to go. I tried to walk over to the nearest. A woman--Chilesia! she would be here somewhere--but as I attempted to draw closer I was stopped. My mind flooded with the command and my body tensed. That's when I first met one of the Custodians. It appeared from the unending ceiling and it was a hovering robotic creation at seemed to be humanoid only it ended at the waist. It was holding a tablet or pad of sorts.

"You have been processed. Disturbance of the others cannot be tolerated. Return to your directive."

"No. Dammit! I have not been 'processed.' What's going on here?"

The bot slowed and swung back around to look at me. It looked from me to his pad and then back to me, before pecking at the pad's surface.

"I am un-qualified to assess this. I am afraid that you do not exist."


There's something about that phrase, "you do not exist". You'd think, if someone didn't exist no one would waste their time telling them they don't exist; there would be no one to tell. Yet here it floated saying the exact phrase and here I stood baffled.

"I'm sorry, something doesn't add up here. I think you said I don't exist but tha--"

"You do not exist."

"How is that possible?"

"When man was given upgrade number 5974a, it included a soul that provided benefits such as enhanced toolmaking, verbal interface, and heightened critical analysis, among others; it was 75% more efficient. The new soul was more resource intensive than we would have liked and unfortunately we have not yet developed the hardware to keep up. As a result the functional period of the body was shortened, it became weaker, less durable and began to grow significantly less hair, while the soul was able to last billions of years longer."

"What does this have to do with me not existing?"

"Well, after this was discovered, a system was made to sort, monitor and regulate soul installation. This process, however is not 100% efficient, some souls, like you tend to accidentally slip into circulation without any serial numbers or records and for all intents and purposes don't exist. It happens approximately 4 or 5 times a millennium. You can tell by the size of the building this used to happen with much more frequency," That must have been the robot's idea of a joke "These souls can only be located after their bodies stop working and this facility has been constructed to sort, dismantle, recycle, and recirculate you all as properly documented souls."

It was scary at first, the though of my soul being taken apart and having those parts be used to make other souls with legitimate serial numbers, and how I would never be me again, but then I considered my life, how it had been and maybe being recycled was the best way to go.

Then it got scary again so I decided to escape.