Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Intros - Experimentation.

The lights flicker, mirrors reflecting the shadows fading and reclaiming of untouched surfaces. The door is bolted shut with a cheap lock, the smell of the stalls growing in its stench with the passing seconds. Yellow and brown paint the tiles in river arches, all leading to the rusted drain in the middle of the bathroom.

My boots are filled with the filth of body parts, dirt, and stained with blood. My pants is powdered with the dust of people and the broken rubble of pavement. My shirt stains in yellow guck of The Infected and my face painted with closed lids and the moving portrait of my mouth's muttering.

"They are not human, they are not human, they are not human."

I do my best to empty my mind, taking the heavy sack slug over my back and placing it in front of me. Knees bent and my butt to the floor, I throw my  broken guns to the side. I repeat the words as I reach for two pistols, locking the proper magazines in. I refill the five empty slots on my frag strap, tightly securing each grenade.

"You will survive. You will survive. You will survive."

I sling the bag over to my back, standing as my hand reaches for the door. I pull a frag from the strap, ready to go.

Breathe in, out, in, out, in...out.

I unlock the lock, slowly, and open the door. The dark hallway leads me straight towards light, where the door was thrown off its hinges, out to the public street. Echoes of the screams pound my head. Sounds of bullets wheeze from the front, back, and sides. The scampering of the infected chill the nerves of my back.

Reaching the doorway, and looking out, I place my pistols out and find a tank rolling past me, blasting at the black fumes to my right. I look left, seeing military forces pushing forward with the calvary, and I join them.

When we all went into this together, we thought it was the zombies we were dealing with. The Infected, we come to find out, were definitely not though.

I am Franklin Courp. I'm here to tell you who The Infected really are.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

That "other blog" and other relevant news.

Long time no see!

It has been awhile since first writing in the blog, and to start things off I would like to introduce you to a few projects I have been working on in-the-secret while living up to my IRL duties and expectations.

Daniel Cierpial, my partner in crime, and I have been working on a franchise IP since highschool, with him doing most of the work and me doing most of the catching up. He lives in the U.S while I'm here in South Korea, so our schedules can clash into a hole of don't-see-each-other-ness. Recently I've managed to secure a awesome sleep and school schedule where classes run on Tuesday and Thursday from 3pm to 6pm, and my sleeping starts between 9pm to 1am. Because of this all the previous talk-and-debate-athons we had concerning material for our "Project: Tribute" or "Creator's Project" is much more relevant now then in the past. In the past we didn't talk often, and we would have to squeeze him telling me whats been up and then proceeding to brainstorming, together, on old and new material we mentioned at the time of the discussion.

The Point: I get up everyday, and have spent at least three times a week talking to him removing the need to update me so damn much. Now we work on the Creator's Project/Tribute and getting sh*t done.

So now that the first project has been mentioned, here is the next one. Within the world of the "Creator's Project" I have decided to finish up the in's-and-out's of one of races we feature. I have to come up with their religion, government, culture, fashion, food they eat, and etc. Yes the focus of everything we do for the Creator's Project is from the childern's stories that kids read for the different races all the way to the interaction of the races and the world itself.

The Point: I took up a race and going development-to-storm mode on it.

The first two projects are of the collaborative nature. The first project is long-term, the second project is a short-term mini-project to supplement the long-term Creator's Project...and now I save my personal project for last.

The third, and final, project I have finally finished thinking-up-and-brainstorming is a story called "James Kindle: For Charlie". I have not made up my mind as to it being a series, short story, novel, or novel series but what I do know is that I have the concept and introduction planned out clearly in my head.

Due to the nature of the third project being something that is worked on bit-by-bit, I created a seperate blog with its own link so that blog posts don't clutter up the content of the story and there is a sense of continous-ness. Here is the link:

jameskindle.blotspot.com

I have exams this week, so between my studying I will be writing out, hopefully, the first few or so pages of "James Kindle: For Charlie". The purpose of the story is to reinvent and pay tribute to anything that relates to the setting of the story and the way the storyline pans out. Don't expect a masterpiece, but something entertaining.


Cheers,
Jason

Saturday, January 16, 2010

| Dreams | A Experiment with Voice








The piece here is made as a introduction to a lad whom killed his wife and ten children out in the country. Nightmares have haunted him throughout the night, and if this were made into a story I'd either choose to showcase his life as it always had been before a sudden change or have it start at a turning point right from the beginning. The main focus for the piece was to pick up a voice that carries the tone necessary for a individual like this though, and here is the result.
--------------------
When you dream, what is it you dream of?
The needs of the living or the white picket fence?
The cravings of the filthy or the lies you make up in bed?



These dreams, filtered under some guise of chaos, translate via the brain into a solid mass of visual teasing. Who do you call in your slumber? God, Man, or Devil? No one knows. Not you, not me. Normally we forget, normally we don't want to remember. I'm saturated by sweat with my feet bare to the floor. Soft scrape by scrape along I go and to the bathroom door. The air is dry and I can feel the grinding, my broken flesh rubbing blood between my toes. I'm yet to be conscious, but my mind grants me my hands.


Wet, Soap, Rub, Rinse, and Dry. I'm on auto pilot and blind. When I come to gaze on myself, I find a grizzly man staring back at me, hues and all blown by the light above. I squint, allowing the light to settle down and there I see my fuzzy self. Take a seat, I do, and I give treatment to where its needed. With bandages to seal, I test my work and find it stiff.


"That will do."


Return to my bed, I check the time, and I managed 4 a.m. before all the dread. I've managed to ease further and further in, but it’s been years since I was last proper. I can't recall, no, I don't want to recall in one dive. Unable to sleep, I make way to the kitchen and start the pots, pans, and that jazz score with the radio station. Had to light the fire, match and flint, which got the log cabin heated quick. Next, I had to tell myself, what you need is a dozen eggs, slices of bread, and peanut butter. Don't forget the Jelly too. Listen to the music drift in the empty space, follow the rhythm. Crack the shell on that frying pan, dump, fry, flip, and lay the mass to rest in your plate. Repeat eleven more times in eleven more plates and its all good. Spread the bread into couples, then slap the jelly to one side and peanut butter to the other. Ease the eggs into the jelly, dunk the peanut butter side, and there is breakfast.  Just remember, they are always watching. Always. They know, so I always got to make sure that breakfast crafting is nice and solid. Nice and Solid, I say. They are always watching. Always. Always making sure its the perfect twelve.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Prolegomenon Influx





I've grown up in the far reaches of the globe, a fabric of woven reality and imagination whispering to me during my time of existence. Experience flavored like that of a Five-Star hotel meal, my five senses lustfully savoring every second of it. Though one can argue whether the ancestors of our past or the wealth of sense while we age are the means to how we grow and how we live, at the end of it all the only thing that seems to cross our minds is who we are, why we are, and what the hell are we going to do about what we are at this very moment.

I currently reside in the depths of a nation which prides itself in shared emotions and passions. I grew up in a life that allowed me to globe trot the world under a father whose services to his nation required a great measure of "here and there". My life has taken me to three continents under the citizenship of one, and the ethnicity of two.

I am an American Citizen born to a family of two cultures. I am a child under the mother of a South Korean and the father of an American.

I've been to Europe, America, and Asia in selected locations. My time in life has molded me to be a certain person in the past, and the person before you presently writing to all who read now. That very time will come to mold who I will be in the future.

My many cultural influences are in the likes of Germany, where culture is more open minded and unrestricted compared to other countries in the world. My influences come from the likes of the United States, where prize of innovated thought and provoking competition bare claw and tooth, fighting one another to take whatever man or women to the generosity of the nations prosperity or the whine and bickering to a "failed Democracy". My influences come from the likes of South Korea, where hard work, passion, and a sense of unity unlike any other country in the world has made it the fastest country to have grown in our entire history as a human race. A leading example of potential for those who think they can't inspire to be something more.

In time, I will choose to reveal more of myself, but for the most part I wish to provoke the mind of not only myself, but others who may eventually come across my passages of abnormality or conventional thought.

I have created this in the hope that I could shed my barriers, tear down the walls, and unleash whatever hidden into the cyber coded network of white blanks. Those willing to read my writing hopefully find enjoyment and amusement in the possibilities of thought which my writing may represent. Have a good laugh or two to anything I speak of in everyday life.

I am Jason Burden.

I am here to share my wealth of abstract thinking.



| Breathe the Fumes of Insanity |