Off: 11/6/11

I was on a bullet train, traveling at speeds surpassing 200 miles per hour. Twisting and turning in an infinite number directions at once, but always feeling like it was going upwards.

It's All in the Wrist Background 01

The pencil twirled around in his hand; manipulated by his skillful fingers in amazing ways. It was quicker than anyone else in the school who had a similar reflex to boredom, but with such a overly narrow superlative, that wasn’t anything difficult to comprehend, or indeed, difficult for the boy to do, as the pencil spun and swirled with an excited flair, without his eyes even on it. The excitation was not an extension of his mood, as he was quite bored with everything around him. His eyes showed it, as they slowly moved from target to target in the classroom, neither stopping nor slowing at any particular time. He observed many students taking notes, some prevalent to what the teacher was talking about, some not, and just as many students doing whatever they felt like doing. Like him.

too much

too many smiles, not enough words
too much friendship, not enough thought
too much fun, not enough morality
too much company, not enough normality
too much happiness, too little reality

New Updates

I know that most people do not like Riddle, so this will be great news for them. Riddle is over for the foreseeable future! I have more chapters written, but not typed, and i don't particularly want to type them up. The next thing I will start posting will either be It's All in the Wrist or Hit Me Up, but right now it is looking like It's All in the Wrist. Sorry for the Riddle-ness.

Riddle 25 and 26

Waking up. It's a odd thing that most carbon based lifeforms have a tendency to do once their sleep has reached an end. Different people wake up different ways, after different forms of resting. Diversity is key. Some people wake up like a crazy person, arms flailing, noise blaring. Some people are on a hair trigger and those people typically kill the first person they, assuming that the intruder were an assassin sent to kill them. Some awake slowly, like a lazy cat on a windowsill
I am normally a cat person. I wake up slowly and calmly, as if it had all been apart of my diabolical scheme and no, I'm not just lazy.
This time I found myself awake, without a feeling of drowsiness leaving my mind. One moment I was staring into the eyes of a beautiful maiden, as we walked for eternity. Then I was looking at Cheri's dull ceiling. My eyes felt like they hadn't closed or even moved for hours, minus the eyestrain. My body wasn't tired, and it lacked a normal, post sleep condition.

Riddle 24

Dreams can be either incredibly odd, or incredibly telling. For some people, myself included, dreams are a wondrous thing. They allow for the impossible to be possible, the unreal to become tangible. Dreams aren't always amazing, nightmares were the true plague of this spectacular realm. Personally, I almost never had a nightmare, not since I was really young. That might explain my empathetic support of dreams. The dream I had last night was both odd and telling. It went something like this.
Step. Step. Step. I was walking down a hallway. From the looks of it the hallway looked similar to an abandoned hospital. Doors adjourned each side, and, out of curiosity, I opened the first one I saw.
The smell hit my nose before the light hit my eyes, and a smile grew on my face. It was an exact copy of Robin's restaurant. I walked over to the bathroom door and flung it open. There was Robin, dead as a doornail. It wasn't even the bathroom that the door led to, it just led to the stall he was killed in. I could feel tears building up around my eyes, so I closed the door. As I was wiping the salty water in my eyes, I heard bustling from the kitchen. Natural my detective instincts drew me over to investigate. Once my presence was located in the kitchen, I was greeted by a familiar face.

Riddle 23

We were absolutely stunned by Nazo's recent development. However, a true Holmes knows how to get back on his feet when he is floored.
"What do you mean?" He turned his head so that he was looking directly at me.
"I know everything about this package. It was made in the mid west, some place like Colorado. The image is kind of blurry. Then it was shipped to a nearby store via a white truck with red lettering across the side and the truck kept making this really annoying this thudunk noise. The store was called Gigante or something like that. About two weeks ago a young glasses wearing girl." He pointed to Cheri. "You to be precise, bought this package. It then sat in the second from the bottom drawer in your fridge until you just recently decided to rip its organs out and eat them." His deadpan face mocked us, though it was mainly directed at her.

Play Update

After a recent and heartfelt talk with a friend, I have been convinced too write a new play slightly based off of his story. It will be my first attempt at a drama, as well as a full play,

Riddle 22

One would expect that with such an aura of happiness being exuded, we would be recklessly riding the damn bike all the way home. Hazardously endangering our lives like the stupid young kids we are. So that same one should be ashamed for assuming, as we had the surprising intelligence to wait until we had left the city before we decided to become rather suicidal, because we did in fact ride that bike.
We came to a rather loud halt, curtsey of a shiny metal trash can that we neglected to notice. Fortunately we had the soft grassy lawn to break our fall, instead of our previous cushion; Me. Despite almost many times, we were not scared but rather we laughed the whole experience off, as if it was no big deal. We got off the lawn and stumbled, not unlike a zombie, to the door. Once we were inside the house, Nazo and I collapsed on the nearest couch, my our more mature partner went somewhere else in the house. I didn't really care as my legs were practically on fire, and all I wanted was sleep.

Riddle 21

"It is true that some people in Jones International committed fraud, but that was out of my sector. I work directly under Mr. Killmeyer, as his senior secretary. And while he wasn't one of the ones who were fraudulent, everyone at our branch of Jones international was feeling the pressure released by the media and our CEO, Greg Jones. Even the lower members such as myself were feeling it. But the ones who suffered the most were the group of people who were in between the higher and lower echelons. The heads of departments primarily made up this group. Mr. Jones is one of those people; he is head of the Jones International branch located in the city.