The Lyre: Guest Post By Dominic Deep

I lie.
It helps me think.
And I think it's very important that you know I'm a lyre, or you would find me very confusing.  Although, you'll find me very confusing any way.  It's not my fault.  I was born that way.
I was born dead.

She's in front of me.  Walking like a penguin on stilts.  Only short.  It would be entertaining to watch if I were the type to be entertained.
I can only see the back of her head, her knitted hat, but I know her face is tilted up, looking into the sky.  I better catch up with her before she runs into a lamp post.  It wouldn't be the first time.
I take wider strides, till I'm by her side.  I stay close to the side walk edge, but stiffen, feeling her too close.  Always too close.  Never close enough.
"Good morning Domino!" Her raspy, but high and happy voice chimes.
"Morning Qym."
It's the same thing every morning as I go to school and walk Qym to work.  Morning Domino.  Morning Qym.  And no other sound in the early morning but her breathing and the soft squeaking and clicking of her metal legs.
Qym lost her legs five years ago, but that's not the important thing about her.
Here's something that may come as a surprise to you.  So I'm warning you in advance.  I also want you to pay close attention to what I'm about to tell you.  Your not going to understand.  But maybe you'll salve the mystery if you look very very close.
Qym is dead.
I'm talking to a dead girl.  She doesn't know she's dead, she's still stuck in the past.
I listen to her breathing.  The very faint, squeak  of her metal knee joints bending.  Click-click  of her bent, plastic feet.  Things I hear every morning and never pay attention to.  I say goodbye to every move she makes.
It throbs in my head like a clock.  Gone.  Gone.  Gone.  Gone.
Maybe living people really are just dead people.  Maybe everyone's a ghost.  Not just me.  They're all ending up like me in the end any way.
All ending up like Savy.
We're passing the grave yard on our left.  It's small and pathetic.  A wired gate surrounds the grassy garden of stones.
I can't make myself not glance through the gate at the little flat stone.  I can just barely see it.  It's the closet one to the gate, probably not important enough to get a place in the middle, or a stone taller then the tips of the grass.
I've memorized the lable.
Selvester E Burns  2016-2029  Rest In Peace
I wish I could have written Savy a better epitaph.  No one would let me though.  He would have liked it if I wrote his epitaph.  I guess Savy and I never really discussed the subject of death until two minutes before it came.
Here's another thing you need to know that you wont understand, and I don't understand it either.  So if you don't want to read any more after you read this, I understand.  If I had to read my own life as a book, I would have stopped reading.
Here's the thing.
Savy isn't dead.
It's wrong, I know.  It's been wrong from the beginning.  For one thing, I can't be dead.  It's obvious because you've just witnessed me walking and talking.  Qym also cannot be dead, for the same reason why I can't be dead.  And lastly, Savy can't be alive because...Well...He is dead.
I'm starting from the beginning.  I'm going to sum all this up in a few sentences.
My name is Domino.
I don't exist.
And that's how I broke reality.

Cat's, Whales, and Alligators

The following dialogue twas recorded from a true event.  More like, many true event's all compiled into one.

"So, Dr. Elemis, what's your favorite animal?"

"Cats."

"What?  You like cats?  What's so great about a cat?  Cat's are evil!  All they care about is sleeping and tarring you apart!  I once heard of a cat that almost murdered a child!  All cat's deserve to be burned in hell!"

"But that's what makes them so fantastic."

I normally don't like answering the 'what's your favorite animal question' because it makes me feel like a five year old.

So next up, an entire blog post on my favorite animals!

Weeeeee!!!!

Cats.

Perhaps they match my personality.  We have much in common I suppose.  (Small, hairy, stuck up, skittish, takes little matters too seriously, etc.)

"How could you like cats?  Cats are evil!"

Oh course they're evil!  That's what makes them so complete!  Imagine what Loki would be like if he weren't evil!  He would be bland, boring, and unreal.  But his evilness adds to his spunk, his cuteness, and his soul.

Thus if a cat were sweet and perfect, they would be a thousand times less wonderful.

"Dogs care about people.  Cat's don't care about people."

Yes, dogs can save your life, and cats normally can't.  But I haven't been in a lot of life threatening situations (Except that time Squimp and I were trying to be ninjas and we landed on our heads on the tile floor...)

...What was I talking about again?

Oh yes.

I haven't been in a lot of life threatening situations.  But I have been depressed.  There's not a lot you can do to comfort yourself when your depressed I've found out, and company is usually scarce.

I don't know what it is with cats, but they always know when I'm sad.  Maybe God whispers in their ears, "Go jump her lap.  She'll like that ." 

And they do.  It's so comforting.  Once I went through a rather scary time, and in the same moment my one dear orange kitty (Mulligan) ran away, never to return.  I've found out that cat's add much to the comforts of life.

A while later,  I was in the animal shelter, surrounded by cute fluffy kittens.  All with large eyes and little paws like tinny pom-poms. Mewing and cocking they're heads in casual, kitten manner.

But I could look passed this cuteness, because I was rather distracted by a different cat.

He was gray, small and weeny, but larger then a kitten.  He extended his little arms as far out the bars as they could go, toes separated, claws extended, and he screamed at me.  The room was filled with his pitiful mews like sirens. The little fluffy kitten below his cage gave me a sweet little mew, but the loud one over head reached down from the bars and smacked him in the face.

Hes perfect.

I scratched his soft gray face, and he purred like a lawn mower.

I melted.

Purring is my dope.

We named him Loki.
I once heard that cat people are the lonely, unsocial, single, geeks with no lives....
I wouldn't say I fit that description really...
But who cares any way??
There's a reason lonely, unsocial, single, geeks with no lives like cats!  Because cat's are medicine for loneliness!  That doesn't mean they'll cure you, but they help a great deal!

My next favorite animal:

Alligators.

I don't know why they're so special.  Maybe because I used to be scared of them...Which made me love them more...It's logic. You wouldn't understand.

I think it started with the book, 'An Alligator Ate My Brother" that I would always get at the library at Alabama when I was about 3.  Twas a thrilling book about an alligator what got into the house, and none of his family believed him when he said there was an alligator in the house.  Then the alligator ate his toys.  And his little brother.  So the kid jumped from his bed onto the alligator's back, causing the alligator the vomit back all his toys.  And his little brother.

I haven't found that book sense I was 3, but ah!  I can see those illustrations like it was yesterday!  The kid with his determined sneer, his knees tucked up for a canon ball, and the alligator with his eyes bulging out of his face and a confetti of toys exploding from his wide open jaws!
So any way, that sprung my love of alligators.
And it spread.
A boring movie would automatically become exciting as soon as an alligator appears!
I created Puddle the Alligator for a kids book I wrote.  My main character was Cricket Betel Bug (the little girl) and her pet was Puddle. (The alligator). And he was so cute and fat and loving and loyal and gray and melancholy, just what my dream pet alligator ought to be!

My next favorite animal:
Whales.
Whales!!!!
When I think fantastic and beautiful and aw striking, I think whales.
And you're thinking of the little chubby cartoon painting on your dentists wall.
Look at this.

It's.  Huge.
Looks at this:

It gives me chills.  Goosebumps.  Imagine sitting in your little boat, fishing, out on a the flat open ocean.  It's quiet.  The sea is black.  You can't see under it, only the sun reflecting off the waves.  But you're right on top of a huge, endless world of water.  Your on the roof of a world of creates you may not even know exist.
Then BOOM!
THOSE explode from the water!
Look back at that picture.
Feel small?
I like the feeling.  I like fantastic, scary things that makes your skin crawl, makes you feel like a little helpless morsel on a big ride.
I love all whales.  The largest ones are the best, but then you get these guys:

It's like an underwater panda!  Sure, they're dangerous, but they're also extremely cute.  

I live in the mountains, and have never really experienced a lot of ocean.  Maybe that's what sparks my interest of it, and the creatures in it so much.  It's mystical.  Alien.  Dangerous.  Beautiful.
What do you think of when you think God?
He's great and powerful and created the heavens and the earth and yata yata yata...
Sometimes when I think God, I think something wimpy like:

But I should think of the most fantastic, huge, magnificent thing I know that makes me feel small.  Like the ocean.  And whales.  And the universe.
I should have that same feeling when I think of God.

What's your favorite animal?

Next Up On Critical Me: Doctor Strange, Scarlet, and Tarzan

Doctor Strange:

Doctor Strange is about a guy named Stephen Strange, a brilliant neurosurgeon.  But after an accident, he is left with a shaky-hand problem (for lack of a more intellectual scientific name for it).
He is unable to be a surgeon any more, and is left feeling a lack of purpose.  He hears about the magical people of what-ever-they-are-called, and joins them in order to get his hands healed.  As he is being trained in the ways of the magical-what-ever-they-are-called, he is approached with much larger problems then his hands, and ends up fighting an invisible battle apart from the real world.
I very much enjoyed Doctor Strange, and was worth watching in theaters.  The acting was good.  I mean, Benedict Cumberbatch.  Everyone else was as good as american actors can get.  But Benedict Cumberbatch. 💗
Character development was fairly good.  Main characters were lovable.
Dialogue was so-so.  Some cheesy Marvel liners, which is typical.
I loved the story, and the cleverness of it that branched off from the Marvel norm.   More focused on theme and emotion then on breaking-down-building scenes, which I thought was lovely.
Villain was dumb.  Unmemorable.  With any normal villain qualities and goals.  Probably the worst part of the movie.
I rarely enjoy romance.  But I thought the slight romance in Doctor Strange was sweet and well done.
Although Doctor Strange and the creators of Marvel are clearly not Christian, I found it lovely that they added some Christian elements.  Or perhaps that was just me.  I like to find Christian elements in things that weren't intended to be.  See if you catch what I'm talking about if you choose to watch the movie.
On a scale from 1 to 10, I would give Doctor Strange a 8 1/2.  
(PG13 WARNING!  For some cussing, head loping, violence and surgery scenes.  Maybe a couple inappropriate references.  Certainly much less gruesome then many other Marvel movies.)

Scarlet (the Lunar Chronicles)

Scarlet is based on the Little Red Ridding Hood story.  Scarlet's Grandmother is suddenly missing, and Scarlet is determined to find her.  She meets with a street fighter, Woolf, who assists her in the finding of her Grandmother.  On their journey, Scarlet learns just exactly who Woolf really is, and her Grandmother.  This book also continues on the story from the previous book, Cinder.  Cinder, after being imprisoned, runs into Thorn, a fellow prisoner.  They help each other escape, and begin life as refugees.

I enjoyed Scarlet.  Full of action, suspense, and kept me turning the pages.  The writing was very well done, I'd give a special complement on the descriptions.

I loved Cinder, Thorn, and Iko, and  the characters from the past book are much more lovable in Scarlet.  I didn't like the main character of this particular book, but was developed well enough. 

Story and plot well developed.  Although based on fairy tales, has it's own story.  Villain's plot is pretty cliche', but the character herself is becoming more and more likable in the hateful sort of villain-y way.

Some good liners, but I wasn't a huge fan of the dialogue.  Definitely had it's good moments though, I just wish it was continued through the whole book.

Romance was slightly disturbing.

But over all, I really enjoyed this book, being an action and emotion junkie. I also enjoyed it better then Cinder, although I'm liking Cinder's story more through Scarlet's book.  I'm excited to read the next book.

On a scale from 1 to 10, I would give Scarlet a 6.

(WARNING!  Some inappropriate references, and some very slight cussing, and violence.)

Tarzan:

 Tarzan was about...Well...Usual Tarzan stuff.  A shirtless orphan adopted by gorillas.  This was the first version of Tarzan I've seen, so I'm not sure how much of the story was changed.  So I'll spare you the story and move on;

I liked it.  I didn't love it, but I liked it.  Again, I love action.  Had some pretty cool action scenes. 

Dialogue was actually pretty good.  Some dumb humor, but when they weren't trying to be funny, it was good.

Acting was also well done, minus the fact that most of the characters were having a really hard time keeping there american accent steady.  I imagine they were all British.  Well done.  Couldn't hold an accent though.

Characters were likable.

I'd say that Tarzan was good entertainment for one night, but I'm not sure I'd watch it again unless I had to.

On a scale from 1 to 10, I'd give Tarzan a 5.

(WARNING!...Pretty much all of the above.  You get it).

The Moon Told Me A Secret

The Moon told me a secret.

It whispered through the trees.

Just between me and the Moon, 

And the hushing of the breeze.

The stars are lockets of memories,

Holding fast to time.

Time for you to look to the sky,

For this twinkling of a rime.

Where the dark ones are,

The stars will be there too.

Breaking through the darkness,

Unlocking time for you.

In The Wings

Last night I lay awake with a terrible, twisting feeling that ripped my guts to shreds.

What if this play I'm in, Pride and Prejudice, is the last play I'll ever be in?  

I've always had this notion that, of course, I would be in other plays.  Like how we think we always have another day to live.

But what if we don't?

It hit like a bullet, straight to the most sacred parts of my soul.

Like a flash back, I starting seeing my last plays.

All of the sudden I'm back in my Shakespeare play.  We only had one week to pull off a professional performance of As You Like It.  But it felt like a whole life time.

The stage is light up in a dim blue light.  The actors on stage are trembling through their words, and the audience is still.  I'm in the shadows, watching, waiting to enter.  That black curtain and newly painted stage and clusters of props, like a little boys toy box, I've never felt so at home.  I don't want to go.  Right here, in the shadows, I feel purposeful.  Like that feeling I got when we found our house in the mountains, I've finally come home.

Once one comes back from an experience like that, life just feels like mud.  I had a repeat of that experience after I came back from a writing camp. 

But what if it was all just a fluffy feeling?  That acting is all fluff and fun, and there's no point or depth to it?  It's all pretend any way. 

It's easy to hear about a missionary who made a difference in peoples lives, but rarely will you ever here about an actor who made a difference in peoples lives.

I exist to serve God and help people.  And he's given me a passion for acting.  Now what?

My mind went back to another play.

I'm in Our Town again.

I'm the stage manager, so I'm supposed to introduce the play and set the scene.  The feeling for the play.  A dry humored, somber, real kind of feeling.

But we're all a bunch of high school/middle schoolers, and half of us have never even been in a play before.

I sit on the chair, behind the curtain.  The spot light shines through, giving it a red glow.  It looks like Christmas.  Squimp is the only other person on stage, waiting in the corner to pull back the curtains.  I listen to the voices in the audience talk, and I try to recognize some of the voices.  My legs are numb.  My hands can't stay still.  I've forgotten how to breathe.

I've been praying about this play for a long time time.  Gods given me a part, he's given me these few words to say, and I want to make the most of it.  I want them to walk out of this auditorium like I did when I first saw this play.  Changed. 

So I pray again, behind that curtain, a few seconds before the light went down and the curtains drew back.

The stage light is blinding.  The audience below are darkened and disappear as the rows go back, like smoke.

I'm not me any more, I'm the narrator and I don't know anyone in the audience and they don't know me.  I dust a few chairs off and make then look straighter, and I smile with satisfaction, looking into the audience.  All at once, they giggle.

I did it.  I've caught my audience.  

I've hooked there attention and they're interest, and they giggle although I've done nothing very interesting or funny.  

"This play is called Our Town." I said.

I say many speeches throughout the play, and more then likely they wanted me to stop talking and move on to the actual story.  I'm not even a technical character in the play.  But they look at me.  They leaned forward.  They laugh.  They nod.  And not everyone in the audience was attentive to the dull things I was saying, but for those few people who were, it was all worth it.

I've gotten people I've never even seen before come up to me with they're thumbs in their pockets like I did on stage and say, "This play is called Our Town."

And it wasn't just me.  It was our whole cast.  The audience talked about how they loved the characters, and how it effected them, and cried when Squimp started singing, or Emily enters through the crowd, or George kneels by his wife's grave.  Simple things.

I've been in many plays.

But the Shakespeare play changed my life.

And Our Town also changed my life, and gave me the opportunity to share the change with others.

So I go back to the question, is acting really worth it?  Or if this is my last play, was acting really worth it?

Yes.

Does God want me to continue acting?  That's up to him.  I have absolutely no clue.

If I die today or tomorrow, I think people would think I was a simple person.  She didn't do much.  She just sort of, existed.  But maybe they'll remember my simple things, like, "This play is called Our Town."

"Machines never come with nay extra parts.  They come with the exact amount they need. so I figured out, if the world is one big machine, I couldn't be an extra part.  I had to be here for some reason."

-Hugo 

 

 

A Post Of Gray And White

Call You Back

Glicer Saul Anapa Valencia

Domino














                   Qym







Savy

Buss Home From Work

TKD

                                                                                       

                                                                        Wansly Saul    

The Dead Tree

The Present Past 

Reaching

Can't Touch This

Forgetasnore 

Far Below 

Alone 

It's Time

Me And the Sky

While I Cry 

Short Story On Account Of Domino

I told you a little about my new boy, Domino, in a previous post.  Here's a scene I wrote from his past that I'm not sure will end up in the actual story but is fairly important.  He appears the age of seven or eight, but is actually about ten minutes old.  He has just appeared on earth, with a head full of all the general information one needs to get along in life, and a mission.  He remembers nothing of being with his birth parents in...'ghost land' or what ever.  It's like waking up from a dream.

“Hello, is this the Deep’s house?”  

“Yes,” She smiled down at me with her perfect pink lips.  She wore a baggy gray hoodie and her pony-tail was still damp from a shower.  She seemed a little too young to be my mother, maybe in her 20's, but I guess I seemed a little too old to be her baby.

“Oh, cool,” I smiled back and fought for an introduction.  They told me what to do, but they forgot to tell me how to introduce myself.  I mean, I know I didn’t seem threatening.  I asked that guy on the side walk what I looked like, and based on his description I concluded myself to be a pretty good looking chump.  Who could reject me?  A cute kid like me and a nice lady like that just seemed to fit together.  Maybe we could even look alike!

“My name is Dominic, or what ever you here forth decide to name me.” A good start.  But my vocabulary was too big.  I should probably start off seeming the age I appeared, “Dominic Deep.  That’s my last name.  That’s your last name right?”

She giggled like a little girl, “Yes.” 

I liked her a lot.

“Yes.  Well.  I’m here to say, or, I was sent to tell you that I’m your new kid.”

Her eyes narrowed and she pursed her lips, “As in…”

“Like, your kid.  Like, your baby.  Your child.  Your son.  Son!” I pointed at her and laughed, “That’s the word I was going for.”

“Your my son?” She squinted like looking into the sun.  Only instead of squinting up at the sun she was squinting down at her son.  

“I hope that’s okay with you,” I widened my ‘pretty blue eyes’, “I mean, if you really don’t want me that’s fine.  It is kind of rude, me demanding you to take care of me for the rest of childhood.  But I mean, I’ll try not to be too much of a pain in the rear, and perhaps spare myself from any pains upon my rear.” 

 I tried a laugh at me clever joke, but my new mother forgot to laugh.  Her chest heaved and she opened her mouth to speak but I was on a role,  “All I ask is that you drive me around to my different activities until I’m old enough to drive.  And if you could feed me that would be marvelous.”

“I-” She shook her head and rubbed her elbow, “Did you run away?”

“No,” I laughed, “I’ve never even existed before.  But in 'ghost land' or what-ever Mom and Dad told me to ‘get a life!’” I mimicked my deceased parents with a polite laugh in which my new Mother forced a crooked giggle.  Like a violin vibrato.

“So they sent me here to your house so you could adopt me if you wanted.  I got a bag full of vital-earth-living-equipment so you don’t need to provide that,” I turned sideways to show her my back pack with every pocket fattened with ‘vitals.’”

My new mother blinked.  She had pretty dark eye lashes.  She looked passed me with her little nose in the air, as if expecting more children to appear coming down her graveled drive way.   

She bent down a little so her face was closer to mine and said in a deeper, softer voice, “Are you lost?”  

“No.  I’ve never even been here before.”

“So, you are lost.”

Who could one get lost in a little town like this?  Even an alien like me couldn't.

“I mean, I’ve never been to planet earth before.  I’ve literally walked from town to your door step in my entire existence which doesn’t mean much because I don’t even exist.”

By her face she evidently watched way too much sci-fi, which made me love her even more.  

“It’s really complicated, but the important thing is, I’m here now and I’m ready to start my life.  You can forget the rest.”  I found my efforts fleeting, “May I at least stay the night?”

“Who sent you?”

“Mom and Dad said, ‘God.’  But I never actually received that message from him personally.”

She bent down so she balanced on the balls of her feet and propped her elbows on her knees.  She looked me straight in the eyes, "Who are your parents?"

“J.B and Lesley McDonald.” 

“Okay!” She cried and jolted backwards so she fell on her hands and crawled away from me into her house, “You need to go!  Get out!  Get away from me!”

“Wait!  Calm down!  I’m not trying to haunt you!”  Well, if the definition of ‘haunting’ was a spirit or un-earthly creature visiting you and scaring you then technically, yes, I was haunting her.

“J.B and Lesley never had kids!  They never even got married!” She protested.

“Oh yeah,” I shook my head, forgetting to mention this, “They got married after they died.” 

She stared at me like a statue.  But her breathing was amplified and her neck tensed.  I thought if I opened my mouth one more time she would faint, but I couldn’t leave my new mother in such a state.  So I started again, casually, 

“Result,” I snapped my fingers and pointed to myself with a big smile.

“Okay,” She slowly eased off the floor with one hand in front her like I was going to attach, “I don’t want to call the police.  But so help me if you keep saying things like that and trying to scare me then I will, okay?  You hear me?”  

I blew it.  Why couldn’t my deceased parents have looked down from ghost land and found some other lady to be my mom who wasn’t friends with them before?  But thinking this stabbed me because I liked my new mother too much already.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry!"  I looked straight up in her pretty brown eyes.

She sighed and rubbed her face, “What do you want?”  Her voice maintained it’s calmness with a hint of melancholy.

I wanted her to be my mom.  I wanted her to love me, not think I was some prank playing brat.  It was the first thing I ever wanted, my mother.  I guess that’s the first thing everyone wants when they enter this world.  The thought of walking away from that house and letting her close the door was such an empty, stinging thought.  I wanted my mom.

“I just want a turkey sandwich.”

One of her eye brows went up and the other went down.  She looked at me through her fingers.  Then her shoulders shook like she was crying, but when she dropped her hands, her face and wrinkled in a giggle.  She cleared her throat, “You, uh, you want a turkey sandwich?”  

I nodded, “If it’s not too much trouble.” My voice was soft, I couldn’t get my spirits high enough to speak any louder.

She was giggling so hard that her face blotched red and she rubbed under her eyelids with her knuckles, leaving wet streaks.  

“Okay,” She said when she found a breath.  She stepped aside and opened the door a little wider. 

  

    

Lonesome Ghost

Here's a poem.
Please don't think I'm wailing in depression, I like to think of 'what ifs' in my head and write them down.  I function on exaggeration energy and drama juice.  I think it's a poet thing.  Poetry how I get myself functioning again.  Look up Notepad by NF.  It's sorta like that.  If you don't write poetry, you should keep a journal.  The journal doesn't judge.


Lonesome Ghost 

"Leaving
Leaving
You alone,"
Says the Lonesome Ghost.
He lingers there,
Does nothing but stare,
At the ones that I love most.

"Wrong
Wrong
Leave my head,"
As my knees hit the floor.
But he lingers there,
Does nothing but stare.
I've never seen him before.

"Leaving
Leaving
Growing up,
Much too old for you.
They wont be there,
They may not care,
What I say is true."

"Stop it
Stop it
Stinging me
You're ripping out my soul."
But he lingers there,
Does nothing but stare,
And now he's in control.

"Father
Father
See me here
I don't want to watch them go.
Change this fate
It's not too late.
They mean more then they know."

I don't know how I would survive,
They make my spirit come alive.
Take us on the train to Neverland.
Run from all the ghost had planed.
So I can sigh and hold their hand.
We'll never grow up,
We'll be okay,
We'd be the ones who escaped the dreaded day.

"Leaving
Leaving
You alone"
Says the lonesome ghost.
He lingers there,
Does nothing but stare,
At the ones that I love most.

"Help me
Help me
Hold the pain,
God my infinite friend.
I'm too week for this
Too much I miss
For Neverland is pretend."

"Coming
Coming
One day soon,"
Says my infinite friend,
"Free from fear,
We'll be together here,
And it wont be pretend."

How To Make Your Study Life Easier

Once I heard someone say that they hated studying, and that it 'raised their stress level.' At first I thought that was absolutely preposterous, but as I thought about it, I suppose studying can be a bit stressful.  So because it would be a sin to spare you of my deep and intimate knowledge, I have decided to share it with you in How To Make Your Study Life Easier.  Because keeping the secret to how I NEVER get stressed over studying would be like having a coffee house and never serving the coffee.

Here are the supplies you need for easy studying:

1. A trash bin
2. A brain 
If you need an extra one I have several in my freezer from previous brain surgery's.  Just give me call).
3. Something to study, like the growth rate of arm pit hair compared to men and sharks.
4. COFFEE
5. Two cats, one really fat gray one and one really twerpy orange fluffy one
6. Oxygen 
7. Stress ball
8A desk wrapped in a thick layer of foam 
So when you hit your head on it, it wont hurt too bad.

Now.  Maybe you thing that you don't have to read this.  In case you're confused whether or not you're stressed with studying, you can usually decided "yes" if you have experienced any of the following:
1. You're in Algebra 
2. A lack of pencils because you broke them all 
3. You find yourself throwing tantrums that you thought you were incapable of sense you were two
4. A sudden urge to kill something 
5. Or all of the above 

These are indications of stress.  Here are steps on how to lower stress.  I got these from various 'positive and encouraging' pop-Christian-songs that play on the radio.
1.  Just Breathe
This one is a little hard.  I know it's hard.  It must be because they repeat it over and over again in the lyrics.  But it's also important for studying, and just about everything else I've noticed.
2. Just be held 
I never really understood how this works, but if the song says it then it's probably right.
"Hay, uh, Mom?"
"Yes Elemis?"
"I was wondering if you could hold me."
"....Well...I'm a little busy right now...."
"Oh okay.  Well, how about later on then?  Because I'm pretty stressed and all..."
3. Just say "Jesus"
Simple enough I suppose.  In the song they meant it in a very somber spiritual way.  But I mean, I hear cussing is a great stress realiver too.
4. Wipe the worries off your windshield
??????
Just Smile
:).........."Okay.....Now what?"
5. Maintain your basic bodily functions.
I made this one up.  I mean, it's easier in a song to say, "Just breath" Then "Just maintain your basic bodily functions and don't die" But that's pretty much what they mean.  So make sure your drinking water, going to the bathroom on a regular basis (the more relief you have the better) eat food, don't smoke, go to sleep, WAKE UP, and itch it.  You know it's itchy, so for goodness sake's just itch it!  No one cares!

Here are some other things to do:

1. Drink a lot of coffee.
Keep your self awake.  One in the morning, one in the afternoon, and one at night should do.
2.  Have a ball.
A stress ball is good.  And if you feel the sudden need to through something at someone, don't hesitate.  You'll feel great afterward.
3.  Have a ball
The other ball.  The dance ball.
4. Pet a kitty.
5. Take a shower.
6. Dance around the kitchen like mad to a cheesy Disney song.
Trust me.  It works.  Just Let it Go.

Here are a list of things that are BAD for studying and stress relief:
1.  Those dumb games with the little metal ball that you have to get in the middle of the maze.
Your mind gets consumed in this game to a point where you can't put it down, yet the ball never goes in the whole.  This will crush your soul and destroy your mind.
2.  Sewing.
It may seem like a relaxing hobby.  Wrong.  Sewing machines were forged in the fires of mount doom.
3. Crushes.
They're terribly inconvenient in many ways.
4. A coffee-less, kitty-less house. 
5. Funny siblings. 
ESPECIALLY the funny ones. 
6. Algebra.
Need I say more?

Odd Questions And Odd Answers: Guest Post By Squimp

Here are Squimp's answers to the odd questions!  Thanks for playing Squimp!  And happy birthday to you too.  Seriously, it's every ones birthday.  I'm not just making this up.



1. What book/movie character represents you when you are acting evil?
When I am being Evil, I act like Lucy from Peanuts. Not really the movie, but more the sunday strip comics. I always act like when lucy is holding the football for charlie brown, and right when he kicks- she yanks it out from under him.

2. You have two months to live. What do you do in those two months?
If I had 2 months left to live, I go to a comic con, and start setting up life like scenarios from different British tv shows. For example if it where doctor who, I would steal a microphone and start tapping it 4 times over and over. Then I would play with the light switch, and yell out “don't blink!…Seriously stop blinking!!” For the sherlock fans I would sneak up behind them and say, “did you miss me?”.

3. What is that thing you always have with you, that no one else thinks is a necessity but you feel lost without?
My brain. I just hate it when I leave my brain at home. I literally cannot function!! Its so hard when all I can think about are like, what time is lunch? or contemplate how weird my face looks from the side.

4. You are lost alone in the wilderness, and you know that this forest is infested with cannibals. Who would you be most happy to have come and save you?
If I was stuck in the woods with cannibals I would want Miss piggy to save me. She can scare anyone away. And the canabals wouldn't eat her, they would just get really annoyed and leave.

5. What smell or sound makes you happy?
The smell that makes me happy is the smell of this little pillow that I have had since i was a baby. I don't know why but when I sleep with it I have the most awesome dreams….

6. You have to choose between dancing alone on stage in front of hundreds of people, or start a conversation with your crush. Which do you choose?
Dancing. I think that dancing on a stage alone wouldn't be that scary. When I perform I’ll be nervous for a little while, but then ill just get lost in whatever I am doing. And honestly when I perform, the more people there are, the less nervous I am. So bring it!

7. You suddenly find yourself tragically without a family and without a home. If you could decide, who would you choose to adopt you as your new family? Or would you want to live alone?
I always thought that I would come live with Dr Elemis Pott. Because I mean her room Is big enough and you know, she already has a ton of siblings. Plus then we could make cheesy movies 24/7!!!

8. What smell or sound makes you sad?
The sound of crying makes me sad. Whenever I hear or see someone crying my brain is automatically like, “She’s crying….should we be crying?….I think we should be crying…. Open up the flood gates boys!!!!”

9. What movie/book character represents you when you are being virtuous and heroic?
When I am being super heroic I think that I am most like the prince from enchanted. Because really when I think I am being super heroic, I am really just being super dumb and oblivious.

10. Is there something dorky that you think is cool and wish was socially acceptable?
YES. I wish that I could go everywhere dressed like a Wesley. Seriously how cool would that be?!?!?

11. What’s better, a Chick-fill-a sandwich, or a fancy green nutritious lunch?
Chick-fill-a. Always.

12. If you could make up how the rest of your year would go, how would it go?
I would move to a big 20 acre ranch, get horses, and get one of these little attic style bedrooms with a door disguised as a bookshelf.

13. If you could choose your death, how would you die?
I would like to die saving someones life. It just seems like the best way to go.

14. How are you?
Physically i am fine. But mentally and emotionally I am almost always a mess. I guess I would say that I generally feel like a tornado. Just a harmless cloud one minute then I could level a city the next.

15. You were selected to fight in the Hunger Games. What do you do? Do you try to win?
Well my weapon would be a bow and arrow (since apparently they cant have AR15’s) but I would try my best to hide out the entire time.

16. Why are you still reading this?
Why am I still reading this……Why am I still reading this? I don't know. I guess I need to have a talk with my brain.

17. As a school project, you are given a piece of paper, a pen, a dark room, and fifteen minutes to write anything you want. What do you write?
I would probably draw. Then invent a cartoon character….or three. Then write a lame short story about aliens that are attracted to potatoes. There will probably be a weird grandpa in there somewhere.