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The Rules by Mr. Pants, And Minor Changes:

1. If you’re interested in writing the next section, please come to the forum named, “Writing Challenges: The Thread” and leave a note. This is to avoid having two or more writers working on the same section. You could say something like, “I’m gonna do the part after Beckett Grey.”

2. Keep you sections to around 500 words. I’d like many people to be able to participate, and this should enable it.

3. End your section with the characters on the verge of an “event.” This will make it easier for the next writer to pick up where you left off.

4. Follow the characteristics that have been established for characters. If in one section “Johnny” has blonde hair, then he should still have blonde hair in your part too.

5. Do not post comments in the comments box. That space is for the continuation of the story. If you wish to leave comments, please do so at the forum.

6. You are allowed to declare a definitive end to the story. I have noticed that some of the stories end over a year ago on a cliffhanger, which is disappointing to interested readers.

7. Above all else, have fun, be creative, and get involved!

Dear Journal,
June 3, 2003

I have started, after many hours of deliberation, to assume my role as a poet. It’s true my life differs from that of Byron, where I am not on the slightest percentage anywhere close to traveling Europe or getting married, I am precisely on the contrary. I live in a tenement building, in a forbidden city, in a forbidden location. My life as a cashier by mornings and a stock organizer by night kept me surviving on toast and Cheerios. I am not an attractive man; one that is forbidden by the society of today to date a beautiful woman. Money is scarce, as you may have assumed, and I am practically losing my hair.

This brings me to the question of why does one want to become a poet. After watching the movie “Finding Ferrestor” with one of the great acting minds of our time, I was truly inspired. Sure, Sean Connery played the role of a locked up novelist and the closest it came to a poem in that movie was the name Samuel Taylor Coleridge, I decided that writing a novel should be a grand idea, but a poem an even finer.

Thinking now, however, I can’t bring myself to decide what kind of poetry I should write. Perhaps I could start “Earth has not any thing to show more fair:” but the language may seem to dull to my reader after, let’s say, reading a poem about a tree. I am however more thrilled about the language of love, such as the following, “So, we’ll go no more a roving/ So late into the night,/ Though the heart be still as loving,/ And the moon be still as bright.”

If I may say now, the poetry lifts the veil from the hidden beauty of the world, and makes familiar objects be as if they were not familiar. It turns all things to loveliness; it exalts the beauty of that which is most beautiful, and it adds beauty to that which is most deformed; it marries exultation and horror, grief and pleasure, eternity and change; it subdues to union under its light yoke all irreconcilable things. This theory, of course, is self nurtured. A man even in his greatest senses cannot say, “I will write a good poem.” Why, Byron can’t even say it. One true statement a poet can make is that poetry comes from one’s natural observations; words that are nourished by the greatest of stimulants, love, nature, why, love again.

I have been a prisoner of my own mind for a great deal of time, it was only temporary before I could break out. A mind is a self contained organism, it cares not for whom it endangers. But enough of this nonsense I fill these precious pages with, let me go on to the true nature of things. I have been imprisoned for sometime now for causes which they have not informed me yet. They say murder, but then they also say treason, and forging documents, and abduction of the sickest kind. These voices that stare into my heart are no longer too far away from, no, it cannot not be! It never shall!

The Lord~


The following comments are for "Diary of a Mad Poet"
by Lord Alexandre

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