So I was on YouTube today.
I'm on YouTube most days, actually. As I've said before, I watch way too many YouTube videos to be healthy. But I do it anyway.
A friend sent me a recommendation to watch one of Markiplier's videos, where he played a game called "Presentable Liberty," with the note that it was mind-bending. I thought, hey, I love to get my mind bent, let's go check it out.
I have to say, it really was mind-bending. But for me, it was mind-bending for a different reason than most people have.
Here's the basic storyline of the game: You wake up one morning in a cell. Presumably, you've been living in this cell for at least a little while, because after a few minutes of pacing the tiny room you start to get mail from a few "friends." Through these letters, you learn that there is a virus that has been going around for a few days, one which very quickly consumes the city. Soon you learn through more letters that one of your friends is on an adventure, and will soon be returning home... to a town he has no idea is infected with such a virus. One of your friends sends you letters from her hiding place, and you watch her slowly lose hope of survival... with no way to even assure her that you exist. But then, you begin to wonder, does she exist? How do you know that she does? Do you exist? Does this cell you're living in exist? Soon, she ceases her notes entirely, having completely given up on making it through such a confusing world. The journeying friend sends you some confused letters once he gets home, and informs you that he's going to get you out of your cell so you can explain just what the heck is going on here. It's all fine and dandy, and he gets the power cut out so you can escape... and then you get no more mail from him. Instead you get letters from your "administrator" claiming that he sacrificed his own life to get you free... That he died not knowing if you were even in the jail, or if you got his letters, or that you were even still alive. Then the letter goes on to claim that you can't escape. But you open the door easily, and step out to find a hallway that leads nowhere and a broken button on the floor. Eventually you wander back to your cell, where you find a couple wires next to the door. You wire the buttons in, and press the down button just for the heck of it.... Guess what. Your cell is an elevator. Your cell is an elevator. And then you step out of the room you spent so long in, with no contact to the outside world...
You step out into a world where you are the only survivor.
You made connections with people, learned their lives, followed them to their deaths. Or did you? After all, it was just a series of letters shoved under the door. Were they real people, or was someone messing with you, or did you imagine the whole thing? Who can say? This was a game that made Markiplier pause in his gameplay to question whether or not he was actually sitting in that room playing that game. I gotta say, when you interact with something virtual that makes you question the real world, someone's doing something right. Very, very, right.
I took some time to shed light on this because the feeling felt vaguely familiar. And not just because I tend to get random episodes where I stare into space and literally feel like I stop existing for a couple minutes. (I'm special that way.) This feeling was different from that, yet still oddly familiar: Questioning whether or not the people you're putting trust in actually exist.
And then it hit me: I get that feeling every time I think about my blog.
I'm very self-conscious, and spend so much time analyzing things, questioning them, trying to make the facts line up, make the world as perfect as I can. And I can attest to this: My blog is anything but perfect. Full of typos, scrapped stories, and empty promises. But I have a life outside of this blog. The life of a wandering, confused sixteen-year old who still has to go to school, maintain relations with her friends, and just live life outside of the internet sometimes.
Every time I post something, I wonder if anyone is out there at all. I sit there contemplating if there really is someone reading my blog, and I wonder what kind of person they are, and if they'd show my blog to their friends, and if they'd show their blog to their friends, and so on. I wonder what you think when you read my stuff. Do the people who read this think it's too cliche? Do they find it hilarious proof I'm just an amateur writer who's never taken any creative writing classes? Do they look at it and think that it's a cool story? Is it creative? Are my jokes actually funny? What kind of stuff does this person like? I'd be willing to write them something special, if only they spoke up to answer one of the billions of questions that rise into my head every time I think about one of my fans. How do you measure fans when they don't prove that they were here at all? Sure, there's view count, but is it really an accurate representation of my fans? Do I have more fans than views? Less?
How can I know anything about you if I don't get your feedback?
I feel like the journeying friend, out for an adventure, only to come home to a completely different world than the one I left; my only friend unresponsive, no proof that anyone can hear me in such a vastly empty place.
Sigh.
I know I'm not the only one that gets this; in fact, I'm pretty sure every blogger, YouTuber, artist, and writer has felt the same way. I just felt the need to call it out. By for some reason talking about a video game.
Anyway.
Please send me your ideas, feelings, hate mail, whatever. I check my mail three times a day, and am always thrilled when I get a message.
Or, at least, I would be, if someone would send me one.
I would be so much more inclined to keep writing if I knew someone was out there listening. Just saying. I've gotten about... three views... in the past week. I'm trying, I really am. But it's hard to free someone from the jailhouse when you don't know what cell they live in.
I need something to work with, here. Tell me what you think about my writing, how it makes you feel, the vibes you get, whether or not you like it. Tell me why my writing presents itself this way. Tangible feedback is always the best. "It's good" just isn't good enough. If there's anything that Markilplier has taught me, it's that you can't have the YouTuber without the fans; I can't have this blog without you guys. He's built up a whole community in a corner of the internet, one where the line between fan and fame get blurred too often to not be noticed. Man, if I could do 1/12th as good of a job as he does, I'll explode. Because I wouldn't believe it at first.
But then, you know, I'll get together with my techie friends and figure out how to throw one of the most awesome internet parties ever.
Thanks so much for reading.
Let's go break this blog out of jail.
And then we'll throw a party.
Heck yeah.
~PolarFarina
UPDATE: Yeah, this isn't happening overnight. I guess I'm not cut out for the famous blog life.... yet. I'm only sixteen. There's still time to change that. See you in the next post, which will be whenever. I have a suddenly busy and complicated life. Such is that of the teenager.
I'm tired of apologizing, and I bet you're sick of me apologizing. But here's one more: I'm sorry. It's my fault I've been so inconsistent. It's all on me. But when I try to take off again, it just makes it that much slower. I'm just so frustrated at myself because I basically set myself up for this failure.... So I'm sorry you have to sit through this ordeal. I need someone to tell me that they care. To prove they exist. Because I'm kind of questioning my own existence here, and.... I have to say, it's not that fun. Even if it's a simple, three word email or comment. You have no idea how big of a deal I'll make it. Literally, the last time I got an anonymous comment (months and months ago), I shouted my excitement so loud, I bet the other side of the country could hear it. My whole family definitely knew about it. And, I try to reply to every comment that I can, but hey, I'm not perfect.
In the span of one summer, this blog hit one thousand views. And that just about made my head explode. Today, it's sitting comfortably at 1,700 views, or thereabouts. And I know you might be thinking, "Oh, that's a TON of views!"
You know what a ton of views is?
ONE THOUSAND. In the span of ONE MONTH.
It's been half a year. And I'm sputtering, flailing. I don't know what to do -- where did everybody go? I'll keep writing, but since I left Facebook and therefore stopped advertising myself, views have declined considerably. And I stopped Facebook because I thought I had a real social life. (Seriously, in the real world I have a total of about ten friends now. It's, like, a record. For me.) And what kind of blogger needs to advertise themselves?
Basically I'll keep trying, but I'm sort of fighting a current here. Stuff is going to be a lot slower if I don't get some help now and then. And I'm asking for your help. Can you do that? Check on my blog, say, once a week, maybe, or send me some cool (Or not so cool) email and comments and stuff? (Or maybe.... real mail? If that's still a thing, email me for info and stuff.) Because that would help immensely. Really, you don't know how much of this blog is motivation.
.... This update was going somewhere.....
On a brighter note,
Uh...
Hm.
OH! On a brighter note, I'm on Tumblr now. Mostly I just reblog gifs of Markiplier being cute and stuff. If you like that sort of thing, then go check it out. My handle is epicninjabowlerhatguy.
....
Yeah, it's named after that comic I posted on here about three years ago. Throwback Tumblr account.
-UPDATE OVER-
-FOR NOW-
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
Wednesday, January 21, 2015
She Closed Her Eyes
She lay down
Closed her eyes
And she saw in front of them
Inky darkness.
Then stars,
Clusters here and there
Pricks of light peeking through the darkness.
Tiny dots you could only really see out of the corner of your eye
And then she saw that they were galaxies
Right above her head,
All around her,
Stars and galaxies lived on
Like she wasn't even there.
Other planets
Other life forms
Such a huge place so far away
The Universe.
She breathed in deep
It didn't scare her
Nor did she feel small.
She just felt how big
Everything else was.
She breathed in deep
And felt the world
Felt the universe turn around her
Could hear the silence of the vacuum of space
Once and for all
She could understand it all
As she lay there, seeing the stars through her closed eyes
She breathed again,
Opened her eyes
And saw her bleak, white ceiling
And wished she could see the universe again.
She wished she didn't have to live an everyday life
Wished she could go out and see the stars.
She wished she didn't have to go to school tomorrow
Or worry about how she was going to pass her classes
Or stress over her unclean room.
She wished she could live the stars.
She closed here eyes again.
She wished.
~PolarFarina
Closed her eyes
And she saw in front of them
Inky darkness.
Then stars,
Clusters here and there
Pricks of light peeking through the darkness.
Tiny dots you could only really see out of the corner of your eye
And then she saw that they were galaxies
Right above her head,
All around her,
Stars and galaxies lived on
Like she wasn't even there.
Other planets
Other life forms
Such a huge place so far away
The Universe.
She breathed in deep
It didn't scare her
Nor did she feel small.
She just felt how big
Everything else was.
She breathed in deep
And felt the world
Felt the universe turn around her
Could hear the silence of the vacuum of space
Once and for all
She could understand it all
As she lay there, seeing the stars through her closed eyes
She breathed again,
Opened her eyes
And saw her bleak, white ceiling
And wished she could see the universe again.
She wished she didn't have to live an everyday life
Wished she could go out and see the stars.
She wished she didn't have to go to school tomorrow
Or worry about how she was going to pass her classes
Or stress over her unclean room.
She wished she could live the stars.
She closed here eyes again.
She wished.
~PolarFarina
Best Friend
New
A new friend
Barely bigger than he, she slept.
Barely older than she, he watched over her.
Waiting
Waiting
For her to get old enough.
Tossed in a closet
He waited for ages
Until she opened the closet
To find him lying there
Waiting
She took one look at him
And knew
That he would be there for her forever
And he earned a name that day
Jack.
He went with her everywhere
On days he was absent she couldn't sleep
She grew older
And older still
He grew faded
And faded still.
His clothes once blue
Now a faded yellow
Her face once small
Now covered in freckles
He's still there for her
To this very day
He's never given up on her
Still waits every day for her to come home
Waiting
Waiting
Never failed where others have.
And I say to you
Who says Teddy Bears are for babies?
Who says they're childish things to be tossed away when you get too old?
I say
That you should never throw away
Your best friend.
~PolarFarina
A new friend
Barely bigger than he, she slept.
Barely older than she, he watched over her.
Waiting
Waiting
For her to get old enough.
Tossed in a closet
He waited for ages
Until she opened the closet
To find him lying there
Waiting
She took one look at him
And knew
That he would be there for her forever
And he earned a name that day
Jack.
He went with her everywhere
On days he was absent she couldn't sleep
She grew older
And older still
He grew faded
And faded still.
His clothes once blue
Now a faded yellow
Her face once small
Now covered in freckles
He's still there for her
To this very day
He's never given up on her
Still waits every day for her to come home
Waiting
Waiting
Never failed where others have.
And I say to you
Who says Teddy Bears are for babies?
Who says they're childish things to be tossed away when you get too old?
I say
That you should never throw away
Your best friend.
~PolarFarina
Once More
She waited
Posed
Standing on the edge
Knowing she could fall
Knowing how far down it was
But yet she stood there
Toes hanging off
Opening her arms
Breathing in the wind,
Wind that had been all over
She breathed in the world.
And for a moment
She smiled
And thought she knew
What life was about.
Then
The world changed around her
The ground swallowed her up
And she fell
Into the chasm of her mind once more
Fell
Fell
Fell...
And then hit the bottom with a sound
That rocked the earth
And then she stood up
And took a step
And another step
And one more
The scratchy
Gravelly
Rock
That made up the chasm
Grated on her hands as she took hold
Again.
Once more she lifted a foot,
But this time
It didn't touch the ground again
And she went up
Once more.
~PolarFarina
Posed
Standing on the edge
Knowing she could fall
Knowing how far down it was
But yet she stood there
Toes hanging off
Opening her arms
Breathing in the wind,
Wind that had been all over
She breathed in the world.
And for a moment
She smiled
And thought she knew
What life was about.
Then
The world changed around her
The ground swallowed her up
And she fell
Into the chasm of her mind once more
Fell
Fell
Fell...
And then hit the bottom with a sound
That rocked the earth
And then she stood up
And took a step
And another step
And one more
The scratchy
Gravelly
Rock
That made up the chasm
Grated on her hands as she took hold
Again.
Once more she lifted a foot,
But this time
It didn't touch the ground again
And she went up
Once more.
~PolarFarina
Wednesday, January 7, 2015
Biter Watches the Sun Set as He is Left Alone... Or so He Thinks
Here's the drawing I told you guys about earlier. I don't know why I didn't upload it before now, but whatever.
I drew this using permanent markers and colored pencils. And while Biter's head is something awful, I like this picture anyway.
When I scanned it in, though, it was sideways, and had been saved sideways. So I rotated it in Photoshop. Somewhere in there, though, the image got cropped. Sorry about that.
At some point, I will master the craft of drawing digitally. However, that is not anytime soon, from where I'm standing, so I'll keep drawing things in real life and scanning them in, just like... I've been doing this whole time. Yeah.
See you in the next post!
~PolarFarina
Sunday, January 4, 2015
Chapter Twenty - Age
Cassandra was tired. The heat always sapped her energy a ton, way more than it seemed to affect other people. She always found her eyelids droopy when the heat was cranked up.
She sat on the ground propped up next to a boulder, watching The Super and The Blue Octo fighting. Arguing. She always used to argue with her sister, but it was nothing like this. She and her sister could yell at each other for hours, and then love each other the same as always the next day. But these two never stopped. The tension only grew and grew, and they stayed grumbly even when the other wasn't around.
She knew that to some people, it looked like she knew everything there was to know about these two. But that wasn't it. She had only just started writing her comics before she left -- in fact, she'd only finished about one or two. And the second one was about developing The Super as a character, and only included The Blue Octo for a few panels. She had the basic stuff down -- who they were, how they fought -- but it was obvious that this would probably be the 600th issue, in front of her. She'd only just finished the second. There was a lot to learn. She tried to pay attention to their fights to figure out what she'd missed, but it was really hard because they skirted around subjects a lot.
They'd say stuff like:
"You remember the Smoke Mines?"
"Of course I do!"
"Then you remember that it was your fault -- ha, you practically admitted it!"
"I wouldn't have even been there if it wasn't for you!"
"All those poor souls.... Innocent... Gone because of you."
"Oh, of all the things to say! After all, it was you who ended up killing the judge!"
"Come on, let's not stoop to this level. You know how much I ha--"
"Stoop to this level? You brought it up in the first place!!!"
And so on.
Cassandra shifted her focus to behind the argument, where Alfonso sat against another boulder. His hair swept across his face, obscuring it so you couldn't tell what he was thinking. The crafty dog. She thought he was watching her, though. She watched him back for a while, until he perked up suddenly and mouthed something to her she couldn't catch. She was always bad at understanding the words people mouthed at her. She put her hand up to her ear, and tried to mouth the word, "What?"
Alfonso's shoulders slumped with a sigh, and he rolled his head around; an emphasized eye roll. He got up and walked over to Cassandra's spot, avoiding the arguing creatures. They both were strange to look at -- if you just heard stories about The Super, it would be easy to imagine as a human, but when you met him face-to-face it was obvious he wasn't of any Earth origins. His hands were... fists? He didn't need to wear any clothing, sporting only a red cape. His sea-green complexion was smooth and uniform, and he seemed to not have any muscles to speak of -- but don't let that fool you. His head was a peculiar shape, though... Cassandra couldn't describe it, as hard as she tried.
The Blue Octo, of course, was an octopus. He just took a slightly more humanoid form, with an actual face of sorts, and clearly had the ability to speak. Cassandra wondered how the creations of her comics had found themselves standing in front of her very own eyes, crept out of her mind into the real world... Or maybe it was the other way around: Were these real creatures that had existed always, and had just crept into her mind?
If so, why?
Alfonso slid down next to her, both staring in the direction of the two arguers, both deep in thought and not actually paying any attention to the other. They sat there for a moment, relaxed and lost deep in their own worlds...
Alfonso took a deep breath, his eyes regaining their focus, as if waking from a dream. He shuffled a bit on the dusty ground, turning to face Cassandra better. "So," he said. "What I had been trying to ask you earlier is: Where's Rose?"
This was a very good question. Cassandra looked around, but didn't catch a glimpse of anything interesting. Just the barren landscape with some random rock formations here and there.
"I don't know," said Cassandra. "When did you last see her?"
"Before I was left alone out there," he said, gesturing with a thumb toward the cliff. He shrugged. "Maybe she had to pee or something."
"Yeah, well." Cassandra looked at Alfonso. "If she doesn't show up in half an hour, we can officially freak out, okay?"
"Alright." He leaned back a bit, looked up at the clouds.
Cassandra took another second to think. "How old do you think I am?" she suddenly asked. She didn't even realize she'd asked the question until she looked at Alfonso's expression. She drew up her knees to her chest, feeling her face get even redder than it already was.
"Uh," said Alfonso, "that's a weird question to ask." He thought for a moment. "Um... ten?"
Cassandra made a buzzer sound: "ERRRR. Wrong answer."
"Well, then," said Alfonso, obviously confused about where this conversation was headed. "Erm... how old are you?"
"Eight," answered Cassandra.
"Isn't that-"
"I don't need your sympathy. I'm not poor or helpless, so don't try to get me out of doing this. I'm here to help, like all of us. So quit it." She stared off into space again for a few seconds, waiting to see if he'd say anything. When he didn't, she broke the silence with, "Of course I knew you thought I was ten. I thought I'd just play along, you know. Keep at least some respect for myself. But Rose talked me out of it. Darn it, she's so persuasive."
"What?" Alfonso looked at Rose again with that look of curiosity mixed with confusion and a bit of worry as well, the look people give you when you tell them something they weren't expecting. "You told Rose?" His tone implied, and you didn't tell me any of this?
"Gosh, no," said Cassandra. "She figured it out herself. Maybe from that thing where she says we're actually the same person? I don't really know. But when you guys had left to pick up The Blue Otco, she gave me a strong talking to, that's for sure. Can't be taking advantage of other people, that's what she says."
"That's what who says?" asked an authoritative voice, coming from above for some reason. They both looked up to find Rose sitting on the top of the boulder they were leaning against.
"There you are," said Cassandra. "We were getting worried. Where were you?"
"Ah," said Rose, "I had to take care of some..." she grimaced. "Business."
Alfonso elbowed Cassandra. "What'd I tell you, huh?"
Rose glowered at the boy. "Not that kind of business. Other time business. As in setting my whole journey in motion."
"You were... getting ready to leave?" asked Cassandra.
"No," said Rose, sighing. "I mean, my first journey. Through time. I had to be there, had to leave at the right moment. And, as the only possible outcome dictates, it went according to plan." She looked up, at the fighting creatures. "Excuse me for a moment..." She slid off the rock and stormed over to the argument.
If she had just accomplished a mission -- or whatever it was -- according to plan, shouldn't she be happy? Why was she all mad like that? And what did she mean, "time business?"
This was all getting very weird and confusing again. And she thought she knew everything that she needed to. She and Rose were going to have another talk. Very, very soon.
Alfonso and Cassandra watched Rose as she approached the argument. She said something, very calmly, looked at each of the perpetrators, and stood there, folding her arms as if waiting for an answer. The Super and The Blue Octo locked eyes for a second, then hung their heads in shame. Rose nodded, said something else, and turned on her heel to walk back to Alfonso and Cassandra, who were staring at her in utter shock.
"Why didn't you do that before you left?" asked Alfonso. "Would've made our lives so much easier."
"Ah," said Rose. "But life isn't easy, is it?"
Alfonso just sort of stared at her looking confused.
"Oh, come on then, get packing. We're leaving in five minutes."
"We are?" asked Cassandra.
"Yes. We got what we came for. Besides, we've got a lot to talk about back at HQ."
Twenty Chapters?? Wow! Never thought I'd actually follow this through as far as I have... When I started this blog, it was just me writing some goofy stories and uploading my not-so-perfect artwork. Just goes to show: Your support makes such a huge difference! :3
As of when I wrote this, I'll be going back to school tomorrow. That'll be an adventure! Sorry I didn't get the picture up like I promised to; my parents made some plans that I didn't really know about until the last minute, and that sort of distracted me. I've written something to compensate.
So yeah, depending on the workload I get, you guys might be seeing some artwork up here pretty soon! Keep an eye out for that!
Thanks so much for reading. You have no idea how happy it makes me when you read my blog; whether I get one view a day or 44, I always get so happy to know you're looking at my stuff. Keep being awesome! :D
~PolarFarina
She sat on the ground propped up next to a boulder, watching The Super and The Blue Octo fighting. Arguing. She always used to argue with her sister, but it was nothing like this. She and her sister could yell at each other for hours, and then love each other the same as always the next day. But these two never stopped. The tension only grew and grew, and they stayed grumbly even when the other wasn't around.
She knew that to some people, it looked like she knew everything there was to know about these two. But that wasn't it. She had only just started writing her comics before she left -- in fact, she'd only finished about one or two. And the second one was about developing The Super as a character, and only included The Blue Octo for a few panels. She had the basic stuff down -- who they were, how they fought -- but it was obvious that this would probably be the 600th issue, in front of her. She'd only just finished the second. There was a lot to learn. She tried to pay attention to their fights to figure out what she'd missed, but it was really hard because they skirted around subjects a lot.
They'd say stuff like:
"You remember the Smoke Mines?"
"Of course I do!"
"Then you remember that it was your fault -- ha, you practically admitted it!"
"I wouldn't have even been there if it wasn't for you!"
"All those poor souls.... Innocent... Gone because of you."
"Oh, of all the things to say! After all, it was you who ended up killing the judge!"
"Come on, let's not stoop to this level. You know how much I ha--"
"Stoop to this level? You brought it up in the first place!!!"
And so on.
Cassandra shifted her focus to behind the argument, where Alfonso sat against another boulder. His hair swept across his face, obscuring it so you couldn't tell what he was thinking. The crafty dog. She thought he was watching her, though. She watched him back for a while, until he perked up suddenly and mouthed something to her she couldn't catch. She was always bad at understanding the words people mouthed at her. She put her hand up to her ear, and tried to mouth the word, "What?"
Alfonso's shoulders slumped with a sigh, and he rolled his head around; an emphasized eye roll. He got up and walked over to Cassandra's spot, avoiding the arguing creatures. They both were strange to look at -- if you just heard stories about The Super, it would be easy to imagine as a human, but when you met him face-to-face it was obvious he wasn't of any Earth origins. His hands were... fists? He didn't need to wear any clothing, sporting only a red cape. His sea-green complexion was smooth and uniform, and he seemed to not have any muscles to speak of -- but don't let that fool you. His head was a peculiar shape, though... Cassandra couldn't describe it, as hard as she tried.
The Blue Octo, of course, was an octopus. He just took a slightly more humanoid form, with an actual face of sorts, and clearly had the ability to speak. Cassandra wondered how the creations of her comics had found themselves standing in front of her very own eyes, crept out of her mind into the real world... Or maybe it was the other way around: Were these real creatures that had existed always, and had just crept into her mind?
If so, why?
Alfonso slid down next to her, both staring in the direction of the two arguers, both deep in thought and not actually paying any attention to the other. They sat there for a moment, relaxed and lost deep in their own worlds...
Alfonso took a deep breath, his eyes regaining their focus, as if waking from a dream. He shuffled a bit on the dusty ground, turning to face Cassandra better. "So," he said. "What I had been trying to ask you earlier is: Where's Rose?"
This was a very good question. Cassandra looked around, but didn't catch a glimpse of anything interesting. Just the barren landscape with some random rock formations here and there.
"I don't know," said Cassandra. "When did you last see her?"
"Before I was left alone out there," he said, gesturing with a thumb toward the cliff. He shrugged. "Maybe she had to pee or something."
"Yeah, well." Cassandra looked at Alfonso. "If she doesn't show up in half an hour, we can officially freak out, okay?"
"Alright." He leaned back a bit, looked up at the clouds.
Cassandra took another second to think. "How old do you think I am?" she suddenly asked. She didn't even realize she'd asked the question until she looked at Alfonso's expression. She drew up her knees to her chest, feeling her face get even redder than it already was.
"Uh," said Alfonso, "that's a weird question to ask." He thought for a moment. "Um... ten?"
Cassandra made a buzzer sound: "ERRRR. Wrong answer."
"Well, then," said Alfonso, obviously confused about where this conversation was headed. "Erm... how old are you?"
"Eight," answered Cassandra.
"Isn't that-"
"I don't need your sympathy. I'm not poor or helpless, so don't try to get me out of doing this. I'm here to help, like all of us. So quit it." She stared off into space again for a few seconds, waiting to see if he'd say anything. When he didn't, she broke the silence with, "Of course I knew you thought I was ten. I thought I'd just play along, you know. Keep at least some respect for myself. But Rose talked me out of it. Darn it, she's so persuasive."
"What?" Alfonso looked at Rose again with that look of curiosity mixed with confusion and a bit of worry as well, the look people give you when you tell them something they weren't expecting. "You told Rose?" His tone implied, and you didn't tell me any of this?
"Gosh, no," said Cassandra. "She figured it out herself. Maybe from that thing where she says we're actually the same person? I don't really know. But when you guys had left to pick up The Blue Otco, she gave me a strong talking to, that's for sure. Can't be taking advantage of other people, that's what she says."
"That's what who says?" asked an authoritative voice, coming from above for some reason. They both looked up to find Rose sitting on the top of the boulder they were leaning against.
"There you are," said Cassandra. "We were getting worried. Where were you?"
"Ah," said Rose, "I had to take care of some..." she grimaced. "Business."
Alfonso elbowed Cassandra. "What'd I tell you, huh?"
Rose glowered at the boy. "Not that kind of business. Other time business. As in setting my whole journey in motion."
"You were... getting ready to leave?" asked Cassandra.
"No," said Rose, sighing. "I mean, my first journey. Through time. I had to be there, had to leave at the right moment. And, as the only possible outcome dictates, it went according to plan." She looked up, at the fighting creatures. "Excuse me for a moment..." She slid off the rock and stormed over to the argument.
If she had just accomplished a mission -- or whatever it was -- according to plan, shouldn't she be happy? Why was she all mad like that? And what did she mean, "time business?"
This was all getting very weird and confusing again. And she thought she knew everything that she needed to. She and Rose were going to have another talk. Very, very soon.
Alfonso and Cassandra watched Rose as she approached the argument. She said something, very calmly, looked at each of the perpetrators, and stood there, folding her arms as if waiting for an answer. The Super and The Blue Octo locked eyes for a second, then hung their heads in shame. Rose nodded, said something else, and turned on her heel to walk back to Alfonso and Cassandra, who were staring at her in utter shock.
"Why didn't you do that before you left?" asked Alfonso. "Would've made our lives so much easier."
"Ah," said Rose. "But life isn't easy, is it?"
Alfonso just sort of stared at her looking confused.
"Oh, come on then, get packing. We're leaving in five minutes."
"We are?" asked Cassandra.
"Yes. We got what we came for. Besides, we've got a lot to talk about back at HQ."
Twenty Chapters?? Wow! Never thought I'd actually follow this through as far as I have... When I started this blog, it was just me writing some goofy stories and uploading my not-so-perfect artwork. Just goes to show: Your support makes such a huge difference! :3
As of when I wrote this, I'll be going back to school tomorrow. That'll be an adventure! Sorry I didn't get the picture up like I promised to; my parents made some plans that I didn't really know about until the last minute, and that sort of distracted me. I've written something to compensate.
So yeah, depending on the workload I get, you guys might be seeing some artwork up here pretty soon! Keep an eye out for that!
Thanks so much for reading. You have no idea how happy it makes me when you read my blog; whether I get one view a day or 44, I always get so happy to know you're looking at my stuff. Keep being awesome! :D
~PolarFarina
Christmas -- It Isn't Always As Fun As It's Cracked Up To Be, Especially When You Forget the Tree
So, it seems you expected me to write something celebrating the new year of 2014. Or, you know, have written something by January 1st, and then you looked at my blog and realized there was nothing new. I know this because I'm magical and psychic. Or maybe I just have a report on the amount of views I get, and they spiked on the first of January.
This holiday season has got to be one of the weirdest I've had in a very long time. I'm trying to cope with that and the loud hammering noises currently bombarding the house while I write this post, massaging my healing wounds and trying to figure out if I have anything due on Monday when I go back to school.
I'll start at the beginning.
In late September, we got a kitten. I honestly can't remember if I told you this or not, but there it is. You'll see why it's relevant in a minute, trust me.
Fast-forward to early December, when my sister and I asked our parents when we'd be getting our Christmas tree. Most people had already gotten theirs the day after Thanksgiving, and it was getting closer and closer to Christmas -- surely we'd stop by the local tree farm any day now.
Imagine our surprise when our parents told us that we wouldn't getting a tree this year at all.
We asked why they had decided to break such a tradition; as Oregonians, it's a given that we had to go cut down a real tree.
"It's the new kitten," said our parents. The kitten, by now, was actually seven or eight months old. She wasn't a newborn when we adopted her. "She's going to try to pull the ornaments off the tree or drink the water or climb the tree or try to eat the branches. And that's not safe."
"But," we argued, "Those same problems applied when we had our old cat! And we still got a tree every year! When there were problems, we found ways to fix them, like hanging mint teabags from the branches. Can't we do that same thing this year?" (Camilla, our last cat, had lived to be 21 years old. She died of extremely old age. She was often mistaken for a kitten, because she was so tiny, had a habit of puking on the floor at least once a week, and hated mint,)
But our parents weren't having it. At one point they stopped arguing, and we thought we had them, but one day we came home from our grandparent's house for our yearly "cookie baking fest" (which also has a story behind it, but I'll save that one for later) to find that instead of a tree in our living room there was a string of lights pinned to the curtains, shaped sort of like a tree if you looked at it right.
"Isn't it a cool tree?" my parents asked.
"Yeah. It's pretty awesome," said my sister.
"Mmm," I mumbled. I walked up to my room, which is not outside of habit, but I could tell my mom knew I was disappointed.
Our enthusiasm after this incident towards Christmas was lackluster at best. We didn't even break out the ornaments or Christmas music until the day before Christmas Eve. Yes, you heard me right -- we put ornaments on the tree made out of lights. No one bothered to wrap presents until the day of Christmas Eve, wherein we all took to our rooms and relished in secret solitude, instead of our usual group effort. Even the party at my dad's mom's place lacked the usual gusto from our side.
On actual Christmas day, we all slept in by about two hours, which is especially out of character for my sister and I, and forgot to start playing Christmas music until after the presents were already opened. My parents didn't even try the "What did Santa bring?" bit, and when it was time for breakfast we realized we'd forgotten to buy the ingredients needed for our traditional orange-frosted cinnamon rolls. Specifically, the rolls themselves. No sugary, school-bus-breakfast for us.
We arrived at my grandparent's house, that much followed tradition-- as did the unwrapping of presents at their house, a nice change of pace.When dinner was finished at 4:30 (Early dinner at my grandparent's, always very early) I tried reading a book I'd gotten as a present, but failed at staying awake -- I felt like an idiot. I'd already gone to bed on time(ish) and slept in that morning, and there I was, falling asleep again.
I woke up at about 6:00- 6:30. Just in time to head home.
New Year's was fun, though not necessarily all that celebratory. I went to hang at the neighbor's, where my sister and parents shortly followed, and the parents chatted in the kitchen, drinking their wine at the dining table, while us kids, all four of us, played video games, drew pictures, and listened to our own music. We were hanging out in the living room-- we never left the living room, actually -- and one of the two resident friends got up to go do something, presumably use the bathroom or something. I was just drawing some more, and I looked up, and I suddenly realized that it was midnight.
"Hey, guys," I said, "It's midnight." The parents all got up and walked out onto the balcony to watch the fireworks that other people always set off -- fireworks that are technically illegal in Oregon unless you have a permit, which I seriously doubt everyone in the neighborhood had one, but hey, it was New Year's -- while I sat there wondering where my friend was. Eventually I got up, too, and when my friend returned, most of the fireworks had died down. But she didn't seem to care much, so we went back inside and started up a game called Five Nights at Freddy's -- a horror game filled with tons of jumpscares, animatronic bears, and creepy laughs, and will never let you see Chuck E Cheese's the same way again. Let's just say this game was a sort of tribute to a string of murders that happened after hours at a Chuck E Cheese's restaurant. And therefore is creepy as heck to think about.
We each took turns, and after my friend's brother died (in-game, not literally), I tried and failed, and we were about to hand it off to my sister when our parents called to us to pack up to leave. It was past 1:00 AM, and gosh darn it, we were going to sleep tonight, according to them.
FYI: I slept just fine. Five Nights at Freddy's doesn't terrify me nearly as much as it does my friend's brother. He jumps out of his skin every time something moves. My sister freaks out when she actually sees something, and my friend just sort of stares at the screen with a worried look on her face all the time. I, on the other hand, have entire conversations with my friends while playing the game, and greet the jumpscares with a polite, "Hello, there!" It'd be rude not to, in my opinion, since everyone else just screams at them.
And there you have it: My not-so-exciting holidays. Part of the reason I never published something like I promised.
Oh, hey, this whole time, my parents have been building a room in the garage, because as of three days ago, my mom doesn't have a cube at work anymore. They forced her to get a home office, or lose her job, and since she's been working out of the same building since 1993, she really didn't want to have to find another job. Of course, we don't have a spare room, so she's building one in the garage. Right now we don't know where anything we used to store in the garage went, and I can't go in there without wearing shoes because of the only partially existent floor. Construction: fun stuff.
Also, about a week ago, one of my sister's friends stopped by the house, like she does every day, and I picked up the cat, like I do multiple times a day, so that she wouldn't sneak out the door. She's a black cat -- hard to find outside, especially at night. But she seemed especially interested in outside, so while maintaining a good-but-not-too-tight grip on her, I walked out onto the porch, just so she could smell the air. I was half-listening to the conversation my sister and her friend were having, when someone started a lawnmower. I don't know what they were doing; the grass is always wet during the winter, and according to my dad, you don't mow the lawn when the grass is wet. Whatever reason they had for doing it, it didn't matter-- because the cat totally freaked out, clawing at me to be let down. She raked her claws across my right shoulder and across my chest, and confused by this sudden burst of pain I dropped the cat, who immediately ran inside the still- open door. I myself ran inside, trying to asses the damage. It wasn't as bad as I thought, but man, did it hurt, and she drew blood, too.
So that's been my life currently. There's a lot more stuff, but hey, look, it's late. If you would like more stories about my life over the break, let me know, and I'll see what I can do.
Oh, I almost forgot! I did this concept drawing thing for my story, which I really need a name for by the way, but that's beside the point. I hope to get my drawing scanned in and posted before Monday. We'll see how it goes.
Thanks for reading, and being willing to read this stuff. I didn't really think about how much people liked this stuff until I came across my mom laughing hysterically at something on her laptop, which turned out to be my blog. It was a real eye-opener: I make people laugh, without trying to be funny. Which is something I used to only dream of doing, so thanks. And I know this isn't really all that funny, but it's my life, and if there's anything I've learned, it's that all my fans out there really like the stories about my life.
I hope you like this one, too.
~Polar Farina
~Two days later~
Wow, I can't believe I thought someone would find this entertaining. It sounds like me telling the story of a Christmas gone wrong, almost. But not in a funny way.
It wasn't actually as bad as this post might lead you to believe. It was just weird, and everyone around me was radiating all this happiness that I didn't necessarily feel myself. That doesn't mean I was sad or anything. My mode of thinking was kind of like this: Hey, today's another day. And look at that, we're opening presents. How fun.
It didn't really feel like Christmas. The ambience just didn't quite make me believe that it actually was Christmas. If that makes sense. And then after it was over, THEN it dawned on me that it really had been Christmas, and I felt frustrated that I couldn't realize that it was there when it was happening.
This is a feeling I've gotten before, by the way. The first time was Valentine's Day, back in third grade. Every time I left the classroom, I'd wonder why I felt so happy. And it was because it was Valentine's Day -- back then we got a ton of candy and stuff from our friends -- But I'd actually forget that it was Valentine's Day. I had to keep telling myself about it every single time I left the room, which was often back then because I was part of the Talented and Gifted group. TAG for short. I got to leave class a lot of the time to do fun stuff instead of "learning" the boring things I already knew.
This update was going somewhere...
Suffice to say, better and more funny material will be heading your way soon.
Thanks for reading this. It's really been quite an ordeal, this post. Sorry about that.
~PolarFarina (again)
This holiday season has got to be one of the weirdest I've had in a very long time. I'm trying to cope with that and the loud hammering noises currently bombarding the house while I write this post, massaging my healing wounds and trying to figure out if I have anything due on Monday when I go back to school.
I'll start at the beginning.
In late September, we got a kitten. I honestly can't remember if I told you this or not, but there it is. You'll see why it's relevant in a minute, trust me.
Fast-forward to early December, when my sister and I asked our parents when we'd be getting our Christmas tree. Most people had already gotten theirs the day after Thanksgiving, and it was getting closer and closer to Christmas -- surely we'd stop by the local tree farm any day now.
Imagine our surprise when our parents told us that we wouldn't getting a tree this year at all.
We asked why they had decided to break such a tradition; as Oregonians, it's a given that we had to go cut down a real tree.
"It's the new kitten," said our parents. The kitten, by now, was actually seven or eight months old. She wasn't a newborn when we adopted her. "She's going to try to pull the ornaments off the tree or drink the water or climb the tree or try to eat the branches. And that's not safe."
"But," we argued, "Those same problems applied when we had our old cat! And we still got a tree every year! When there were problems, we found ways to fix them, like hanging mint teabags from the branches. Can't we do that same thing this year?" (Camilla, our last cat, had lived to be 21 years old. She died of extremely old age. She was often mistaken for a kitten, because she was so tiny, had a habit of puking on the floor at least once a week, and hated mint,)
But our parents weren't having it. At one point they stopped arguing, and we thought we had them, but one day we came home from our grandparent's house for our yearly "cookie baking fest" (which also has a story behind it, but I'll save that one for later) to find that instead of a tree in our living room there was a string of lights pinned to the curtains, shaped sort of like a tree if you looked at it right.
"Isn't it a cool tree?" my parents asked.
"Yeah. It's pretty awesome," said my sister.
"Mmm," I mumbled. I walked up to my room, which is not outside of habit, but I could tell my mom knew I was disappointed.
Our enthusiasm after this incident towards Christmas was lackluster at best. We didn't even break out the ornaments or Christmas music until the day before Christmas Eve. Yes, you heard me right -- we put ornaments on the tree made out of lights. No one bothered to wrap presents until the day of Christmas Eve, wherein we all took to our rooms and relished in secret solitude, instead of our usual group effort. Even the party at my dad's mom's place lacked the usual gusto from our side.
On actual Christmas day, we all slept in by about two hours, which is especially out of character for my sister and I, and forgot to start playing Christmas music until after the presents were already opened. My parents didn't even try the "What did Santa bring?" bit, and when it was time for breakfast we realized we'd forgotten to buy the ingredients needed for our traditional orange-frosted cinnamon rolls. Specifically, the rolls themselves. No sugary, school-bus-breakfast for us.
We arrived at my grandparent's house, that much followed tradition-- as did the unwrapping of presents at their house, a nice change of pace.When dinner was finished at 4:30 (Early dinner at my grandparent's, always very early) I tried reading a book I'd gotten as a present, but failed at staying awake -- I felt like an idiot. I'd already gone to bed on time(ish) and slept in that morning, and there I was, falling asleep again.
I woke up at about 6:00- 6:30. Just in time to head home.
New Year's was fun, though not necessarily all that celebratory. I went to hang at the neighbor's, where my sister and parents shortly followed, and the parents chatted in the kitchen, drinking their wine at the dining table, while us kids, all four of us, played video games, drew pictures, and listened to our own music. We were hanging out in the living room-- we never left the living room, actually -- and one of the two resident friends got up to go do something, presumably use the bathroom or something. I was just drawing some more, and I looked up, and I suddenly realized that it was midnight.
"Hey, guys," I said, "It's midnight." The parents all got up and walked out onto the balcony to watch the fireworks that other people always set off -- fireworks that are technically illegal in Oregon unless you have a permit, which I seriously doubt everyone in the neighborhood had one, but hey, it was New Year's -- while I sat there wondering where my friend was. Eventually I got up, too, and when my friend returned, most of the fireworks had died down. But she didn't seem to care much, so we went back inside and started up a game called Five Nights at Freddy's -- a horror game filled with tons of jumpscares, animatronic bears, and creepy laughs, and will never let you see Chuck E Cheese's the same way again. Let's just say this game was a sort of tribute to a string of murders that happened after hours at a Chuck E Cheese's restaurant. And therefore is creepy as heck to think about.
We each took turns, and after my friend's brother died (in-game, not literally), I tried and failed, and we were about to hand it off to my sister when our parents called to us to pack up to leave. It was past 1:00 AM, and gosh darn it, we were going to sleep tonight, according to them.
FYI: I slept just fine. Five Nights at Freddy's doesn't terrify me nearly as much as it does my friend's brother. He jumps out of his skin every time something moves. My sister freaks out when she actually sees something, and my friend just sort of stares at the screen with a worried look on her face all the time. I, on the other hand, have entire conversations with my friends while playing the game, and greet the jumpscares with a polite, "Hello, there!" It'd be rude not to, in my opinion, since everyone else just screams at them.
And there you have it: My not-so-exciting holidays. Part of the reason I never published something like I promised.
Oh, hey, this whole time, my parents have been building a room in the garage, because as of three days ago, my mom doesn't have a cube at work anymore. They forced her to get a home office, or lose her job, and since she's been working out of the same building since 1993, she really didn't want to have to find another job. Of course, we don't have a spare room, so she's building one in the garage. Right now we don't know where anything we used to store in the garage went, and I can't go in there without wearing shoes because of the only partially existent floor. Construction: fun stuff.
Also, about a week ago, one of my sister's friends stopped by the house, like she does every day, and I picked up the cat, like I do multiple times a day, so that she wouldn't sneak out the door. She's a black cat -- hard to find outside, especially at night. But she seemed especially interested in outside, so while maintaining a good-but-not-too-tight grip on her, I walked out onto the porch, just so she could smell the air. I was half-listening to the conversation my sister and her friend were having, when someone started a lawnmower. I don't know what they were doing; the grass is always wet during the winter, and according to my dad, you don't mow the lawn when the grass is wet. Whatever reason they had for doing it, it didn't matter-- because the cat totally freaked out, clawing at me to be let down. She raked her claws across my right shoulder and across my chest, and confused by this sudden burst of pain I dropped the cat, who immediately ran inside the still- open door. I myself ran inside, trying to asses the damage. It wasn't as bad as I thought, but man, did it hurt, and she drew blood, too.
So that's been my life currently. There's a lot more stuff, but hey, look, it's late. If you would like more stories about my life over the break, let me know, and I'll see what I can do.
Oh, I almost forgot! I did this concept drawing thing for my story, which I really need a name for by the way, but that's beside the point. I hope to get my drawing scanned in and posted before Monday. We'll see how it goes.
Thanks for reading, and being willing to read this stuff. I didn't really think about how much people liked this stuff until I came across my mom laughing hysterically at something on her laptop, which turned out to be my blog. It was a real eye-opener: I make people laugh, without trying to be funny. Which is something I used to only dream of doing, so thanks. And I know this isn't really all that funny, but it's my life, and if there's anything I've learned, it's that all my fans out there really like the stories about my life.
I hope you like this one, too.
~Polar Farina
~Two days later~
Wow, I can't believe I thought someone would find this entertaining. It sounds like me telling the story of a Christmas gone wrong, almost. But not in a funny way.
It wasn't actually as bad as this post might lead you to believe. It was just weird, and everyone around me was radiating all this happiness that I didn't necessarily feel myself. That doesn't mean I was sad or anything. My mode of thinking was kind of like this: Hey, today's another day. And look at that, we're opening presents. How fun.
It didn't really feel like Christmas. The ambience just didn't quite make me believe that it actually was Christmas. If that makes sense. And then after it was over, THEN it dawned on me that it really had been Christmas, and I felt frustrated that I couldn't realize that it was there when it was happening.
This is a feeling I've gotten before, by the way. The first time was Valentine's Day, back in third grade. Every time I left the classroom, I'd wonder why I felt so happy. And it was because it was Valentine's Day -- back then we got a ton of candy and stuff from our friends -- But I'd actually forget that it was Valentine's Day. I had to keep telling myself about it every single time I left the room, which was often back then because I was part of the Talented and Gifted group. TAG for short. I got to leave class a lot of the time to do fun stuff instead of "learning" the boring things I already knew.
This update was going somewhere...
Suffice to say, better and more funny material will be heading your way soon.
Thanks for reading this. It's really been quite an ordeal, this post. Sorry about that.
~PolarFarina (again)
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