Movi3s

Future Weather made 2012

A ‘B’ movie, yes; however I loved it. I didn’t find it slow at all. I know that most people wouldn’t just sit down and watch this movie. I never planned to. I just laid on the couch and scrolled through On Demand and found this. Just a random movie at a random moment.

“Laduree, a 13-year-old girl, is abandoned by her mother and she is forced to move in with her grandmother. She hates leaving behind her environmental experiment and they have a hard time living together until they give up on the past.”

 

Pitch Perfect 2

Not recommended. The worst parts of the movie were Amy’s parts. If the beginning would have been left out, the part at the President gig and that whole drama, then her riding a boat across the lake. Yuck! It was just too much. My favorite part of the whole movie was the final concert. I loved that they got the alumni from the former years to sing. It was beautiful and gave me goosebumps. I watch that seen twice. I read somewhere that a third one is being made, not looking forward to it. And I was excited for this one. Let down!

YouTube Monday

Literally one of my favorite songs. I sang this song three times on my way to church this Sunday. Been going through a lot in and school and with my family that I find this song very comforting. “I will stand my ground where hope can be found….I know you hear my cry your love is lifting me above all the lies…You’ll take all that is wrong and make it right.”

 

Channing Tatum…need I say more?

Jimmy Fallon dancing…need I say more?

 

Sword Art Online! One my favorite anime’s. Actually it is my favorite. I know it says sad songs, but its a rather peaceful album to listen to. Lets me think and and focus on studying. Oh, and I  just like their relationship, don’t you? The way it got started and how they kept it going in the game and outside the game.

 

 

Story Time

Legend has it that when a person uses the knocker, that person is never seen again. Nevertheless, their cry can be heard when the winds are blowing. Others say that the person is seen again, but only if you look through the window of the old house. Some say that person is forgotten over time, just a figment of the imagination. Of course none of this is true. True, there is a knocker and no ordinary one at that. How do I know this you ask? Well I will tell you, but in order for me to tell you mine, I have to tell you his. It’s the only way it will work. After all he was the first one to use the knocker.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………….

It was the dead of night and all was quiet. Peeking out the window, the young boy looked down and waited. Minutes went by before a guard strolled past. When the guard was gone and out of sight, the young boy let down a long think rope. He carefully climbed over the edge of his window with a firm grip on the rope. He twisted himself and began to lower his body. He placed his feet firmly on the wall of the tower and climbed his way down. The moment his feet touched the wet grass, he let go and ran off, heading towards the stables. With no light, he slowly made his way to a stable containing a chalk white horse with a black main and tail. The gate opened with a slight creak. The young boy, dressed in black pants and a white top hopped onto the horse. “Run Ravis! Run!” The horse reared with no noise and dashed out of the stables. The pair headed straight for the woods with a guard hot on their heels. “Stop! Stop! Sound the alarms!” But it was too late. The darkness had swallowed the two, never to been seen again. 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Morgan.” The sun was not yet rising on the yellow painted house, but the woman of the house was ready to face the day. “Morgan!” Upstairs, tucked in her twin size bed was a black haired girl of fourteen who was not ready to face the day. “Morgan!”, the woman shouted from the kitchen to no avail. She soon knew this and made her way up the white carpeted stairs in her black witched heels. “Morgan! Don’t make me come in there.” Rolling over in her bed, Morgan was beginning to wake up. “I’m up.”, she said in a groggy tone. The woman walked in and sat on the edge of Morgan’s bed. She picked up a purple fuzzy pillow and began plucking at the fuzz. “Mom, the suns not even up yet.” The woman, the mom, bent over to give her daughter a kiss on the top of her head. “I know honey, but I have to be into work early. It’s my first day you know; I need to make a good first impression. And I wanted to see you before you started your first day of school.” The two were now sitting up and looking at each other. “Geeze, thanks mom. Just had to remind me. Now I’m going to be nervous.”, Morgan said in a dry sarcastic tone. Silence hung in the air before they giggled. Morgan was one of those girls who didn’t do nervous. She got that from her mom. As a lawyer, her mother, Cathy, is not afraid to speak in public or say what’s on her mind. Her black hair though, that was from her dad. She did not have her mom’s red hair.

Morgan’s dad had walked out on the family when she was four years old. Cathy didn’t like to talk about him, so Morgan didn’t know much about him. The only thing she had was a picture of him inside her golden heart locket. The locket was made of real gold that her mother had gotten for her on her tenth birthday. Cathy worked as a lawyer and was often gone during the school hours. Morgan was fourteen, but she was a sophomore in high school and taking two online college courses. The mom and daughter were inseparable and the best of friends, so when Cathy’s work relocated her from Chicago to the small town area of Colorado, Morgan made no objections. Why should she, she had no friends except her mother.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The horse and boy, the boy and horse, they were deep into the forest. Back at the castle the bell alarms were sounding. The King had arisen from his bed, putting on a robe to cover his pajamas. The Queen stayed in her chambers, looking out the window for any sign of the boy. Or the horse. The King was furious, but the Queen was worried. She knew of something that no one else knew of. She knew of a particular house in the forest and she only prayed that the boy didn’t end up anywhere near there. If he did he surly would not come back. The Queen knew of this house before anyone because she had helped the Warlock to build it.

            She was forced to you see as the Warlock is her father. You see, the Queen’s mother had been killed by villagers for being a witch, though she was no powerful witch in the least. Her powers were more of healing and growth than destruction. But that didn’t matter to the villagers. So they had her drowned in the river. However, the Warlock is very powerful. He became furious and wished to do evil on the land. But the Queen begged him not too. Therefore, he tricked her into building a house, a house for them to live in together. She had no idea of her father’s intentions. But when the door shut, with him in it and her out, she walked up to knock on the golden knocker. “NO! Daughter you mustn’t. If you do you will be cursed!” The Queen was frightened that night and all other nights after.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Morgan made it to school twenty minutes before the first bell was to ring. She came dressed in red short overalls with a black long sleeve underneath. She wore her black knock off toms and, as accustomed, she had a few red streaks in her hair. Morgan had already gotten her locker number and key in the mail as well as her class schedule, so she went to her locker to get the books she needed for her first two classes. She had Physics with Mr. Walker and Geometry with Mr. Clay. This school was supposed to be designed for honor roll type students, she could only hope that was true. Morgan was just so tired of going to schools that were too easy for her.

Morgan climbed the stairs to the second floor for her first class. Walking in, she found it completely empty. She took a seat in the front row. She laid out her books and her colored pens. She never wrote in pencil, she preferred colored ink. Her class was to start twenty minutes after eight. She had just ten minutes. Still no one was in the room. Then he walked in. His green eyes shone out like gems. His black hair just barely touched his shoulders. He had on a black T-shirt and jeans and wore black sneakers. His skin was white. Whiter than Morgan had ever seen on anybody. He brushed past her and took a seat at the back of the classroom. Slowly the class trickled in. When the roll call was made, Morgan made sure to catch his name. Alec. Morgan was going to make sure she got to know this Alec.              

Po3try

“She wore her face

Like modern art

Loose and young

Wild and free

She was the heart of her own

Revolution”

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“It wasn’t

That she tried

To be rebellious

She just wanted

To know herself.”

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOKS

I am currently working on a research report for my government class. I decided to do it on the Women’s Suffrage. Might be in a little over my head. There is a ton of reading to do. Right now I have five books on the topic. I am reading all but one. I have to finish reading, so I can start typing.

The other book I am reading is “Rainbow Valley” by L.M. Montgomery. It is the seventh book in the Anne of Green Gables series. It is my first time reading through the series. I really like them. Today “Ballet Shoes” arrived in the mail, so I can’t wait to start reading that. I have seen the movie a few times over as I have fallen in love with that movie, so I decided to get the book. Emma Watson stars in the movie and she plays her part rather well.

Other than that, not much. School is taking up my reading time.

Story Time

Legend has it that when a person uses the knocker, that person is never seen again. Nevertheless, their cry can be heard when the winds are blowing. Others say that the person is seen again, but only if you look through the window of the old house. Some say that person is forgotten over time, just a figment of the imagination. Of course none of this is true. True, there is a knocker and no ordinary one at that. How do I know this you ask? Well I will tell, but in order for me to tell you mine, I have to tell his. It’s the only way it will work. After all he was the first one to use the knocker.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………….

It was the dead of night and all was quiet. Peeking out the window, the young boy looked down and waited. Minutes went by before a guard strolled past. When the guard was gone and out of sight, the young boy let down a long think rope. He carefully climbed over the edge of his window with a firm grip on the rope. He twisted himself and began to lower his body. He placed his feet firmly on the wall of the tower and climbed is way down. The moment his feet touched the wet grass, he let go and ran off, heading towards the stables. With no light he slowly made his way to a stable containing a chalk white horse with a black main and tail. The gate opened with a slight creak. The young boy, dressed in black pants and a white top hopped onto the horse. “Run Ravis! Run!” The horse reared with no noise and dashed out of the stables. The pair headed straight for the woods with a guard hot on their heels. “Stop! Stop! Sound the alarms!” But it was too late. The darkness had swallowed the two, never to been seen again.  

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Morgan.” The sun was not yet rising on the yellow painted house, but the woman of the house was ready to face the day. “Morgan!” Upstairs, tucked in her twin size bed was a black haired girl of fourteen who was not ready to face the day. “Morgan!”, the woman shouted from the kitchen to no avail. She soon knew this and made her way up the white carpeted stairs in her black witched heels. “Morgan! Don’t make me come in there.” Rolling over in her bed, Morgan was beginning to wake up. “I’m up.”, she said in a groggy tone. The woman walked in and sat on the edge of Morgan’s bed. She picked up a purple fuzzy pillow and began plucking at the fuzz. “Mom, the suns not even up yet.” The woman, the mom, bent over to give her daughter a kiss on the top of her head. “I know honey, but I have to be into work early. It’s my first day you know; I need to make a good first impression. And I wanted to see you before you started your first day of school.” The two were now sitting up and looking at each other. “Geeze, thanks mom. Just had to remind me. Now I’m going to be nervous.”, Morgan said in a dry sarcastic tone. Silence hung in the air before they giggled. Morgan was one of those girls who didn’t do nervous. She got that from her mom. As a lawyer, her mother, Cathy, is not afraid to speak in public or say what’s on her mind. Her black hair though, that was from her dad. She did not have her mom’s red hair.

Morgan’s dad had walked out on the family when she was four years old. Cathy didn’t like to talk about him, so Morgan didn’t know much about him. The only thing she had was a picture of him inside her golden heart locket. The locket was made of real gold that her mother had gotten for her on her tenth birthday. Cathy worked as a lawyer and was often gone during the school hours. Morgan was fourteen, but she was a sophomore in high school and taking two online college courses. The mom and daughter were inseparable and the best of friends, so when Cathy’s work relocated her from Chicago to the small town area of Colorado, Morgan made no objections. Why should she, she had no friends except her mother.

PoetryTuesday

I won’s sing for you

I won’t be torn in two

I won’t be there completely.”

I never sing for people, not by myself at least. I sing with one or two other people at least or I sing with the radio. I sing in room where no one can see me and I sing for myself. No matter what happens I will not let myself be torn in two. I am my own person and the choices I make are for me. I take no sides. I have always thought that I was never here, not completely, in this world. I live in the land of dreams and imagination. I cannot walk away nor do I want to.

She was just Abigail

Like she was just Jane

Or just Mary

Just on thing or another

Nothing Special”

My name alone does not define me. I am who I am. I am what I read. I am what I watch. I am what I listen to. I am what I eat. I am what I drink. I am not just a person. I am not just a name. I am much more than what you see in front of you. I am more than just. I am more than special. I am who I am and that is just the fact.