1

Alex Maughan English 2250 Professor Lisa Bickmore Introduction to Imaginative Writing Final Portfolio

To Write is to Discover Oneself Again and Again.

CONTENTS DATE 31st January, 2013 26th February, 2013 5th March, 2013 5th March, 2013 21st April, 2013 GENRE Parody Rhetorical Topoi Meditation Slowness Essay TITLE Professors Exist Dorrs and Romms Moon Masks Barbed Wire How I Beat Halo on Legendary PAGES 34 57 8 9 10 11 13

I began as a writer in Kindergarten under pressure from a mean, old, unhappy teacher who taught me to memorize alphabet, how to sound out words, and how to put those words together to make sentences, then paragraphs and then papers. I never knew those moments would lead to something that brought satisfaction, fulfillment, and entertainmentsomething that was difficult to grasp underneath her glare. I say I began as a writer back then, however, Ive since learned that writing has no beginning and it has no endI believe its always been a part of me; it only ends when I dont write. The things I have chosen to share are varied and unique in their, as they say, own special way. They are special because Ive invested time, thought, and energy into each one, and while I hope they entertain, I hope they make you think! In the words of an annoying cheer from my nephew James, Think think think think think think think think think! About what? A lot of things I suppose. But one thing that stands out to me, as Im sure it stands out to you, is me, and youwho we are. Writing is the process of discovery, and so is reading. This is a brief moment in time where our minds will connect, where they feel the ideas on a page: are they rough? Do they feel smooth and agreeable? Do they feel sad? Do they feel confident? Do they quench the minds curiosity? My hope is that they do. My hope is that you will learn something about yourself that you may notve known, or that you mayve known butve forgotten, or may notve known and do not wish to know. That is the essence of writing, the discovery of self. Again and again.

Parody of Blink-182 Aliens Exist Professors Exist Hey Mom, theres something in the back room. Hope its not the creatures from above. You used to tell me stories, as if my dreams were boring, We all know conspiracies are dumb! Hey Mom, theres something in my backpack. Homework due last week that I ignored. I used to go to college, as if Id use their knowledge. We all know were jobless cause were dumb! What if people knew that these were real (real)? Leave my closet door open all night. I know the C.I.A. will say, What you hear is all hear-say. Wish someone would tell me what was right. What if teachers knew that it was useless (useless)? School and classes take away my time. Telling us to think then say, College didnt waste my pay. Wish teachers would tell me why they lie. Up all night long! And theres something very wrong, And I know it must be late. Been gone since yesterday. Im not like you guys. Im not like you! Up all night long! And theres something very wrong, Cause they push out the door, dumb kids then ask for more. I dont like you guys. I dont like you! I am still a skeptic, yes you know me. Been best friends and will be till we die. I got an injection, of fear from the abduction, My best friend thinks Im just telling lies. Alright. I still pay tuition, yes you know me. Been paying and will be till I die. I got an understanding, that college is demanding, Teachers say that I just waste their time. Alright. Up all night long! And theres something very wrong,

And I know it must be late. Been gone since yesterday. Im not like you guys. Im not like you! Up all night long! And theres something very wrong, And I know Ill fail this test. My head doesnt care about this. I dont like you guys. I dont like you! Dark and scary. Ordinary. Explanation. Information. Nice and phony. Superficial. Memorization. Information. Nice to know ya. Paranoia. Wheres my mother? Biofather. Nice to know ya. Ill avoid ya. Wheres the exit? Biovomit. Up all night long! And theres something very wrong, And I know it must be late. Been gone since yesterday. Im not like you guys. Twelve majestic lies. Up all night long! And theres something very wrong, And I know Ill get home late. Been here since yesterday. Im not like you guys. Feeding students lies.

Dorrs and Romms In this place, there are an infinite number of rooms. These rooms exist within your darkest recesses yet are receptive to light. Silence is the sound that leads to endless discovery. The rooms cannot be seen, felt, smelt, touched, or tasted. Imagine you walk into an empty romm filled with light. You have come to solve a problem or concern you have thought of for some time. You sit down; if you wait long enough, an answer will come. Inside you feel at peace, or perhaps you are feeling anxious, or angry, frustrated, or curious: any number of these will do, even if you feel nothing. To solve this problem you must learn to concentrate on reason, thought, and idea suspended from feeling. Where are you? Certainly you have guessed. You close your eyes and travel deeper, though, you havent moved. You sense what has been called by some as a third eye, the eye of truth, or the eye of reason. Here you find answers to questions without interruption, unless however, you interrupt yourself: these romms open to anyoneor anythingthat you let in; whatever enters contains is the antithesis of Vampirism-mannerism: they wont stay out if theyre not invited because seeing a dorr is their invitation: the Vampire-like refusal can happen, but much sooner, long before you invited them into your mind. Theyre curious, like you are. They come in, like you have. They come and go at will, of course they can! You invited them. Do not be surprised if they come in, sit down, and try to help you solve the problem. Do not be surprised if others come in, run around, and turn on a mental stereo to distract you from solving the problem. Some friends have nothing useful to say but live for distractiontheir only purpose. Others may come in to replace these distracting friends, but only if you invite them, these wiser friends, the ones who know the value of silence, positive energy, and peace. Suddenly your romm begins to fill with noise. What were you thinking about? You cant recall. Maybe you can. But this is no place to solve anything if you cant think of the thought you were thinking of thinking about solving. You exit through the closest dorr and realize you constantly fill your romms with noiseendless stimulus through your ears, sense of touch, taste, and through thoughts already there. You walk endlessly trying to find an empty romm, but more of your friends have decided to throw a party: youre invited. Of course you are! You were the first to invite them so why should they not invite you? You are, after all, the life of the party. You walk in and see a stage, youre favorite band on stage. There they are! Except, there they arent. How did they get here? You remember the white cord leading up from your iPod to your ears. You realize you have the power to keep it going, to make it louder, or to pull the plug and send everyone to a different romm. The party-goers will

never completely go away or go homethey are home. This is the harder of two paths to choosethey wont like being sent away, no, they wont go away without a fight. You have a choice. Option 1 End the Party You decide its best if everyone leave. You need a quiet place to think and this is the perfect spot, that is, if everyone was gone. Besides, youve heard this song before, youve seen this band before, and you can listen to them laterthey arent going anywhere (figuratively speaking). Just as your favorite singer begins a louder, faster chorus, you pull the plug. The singer keeps singing but their voice grows smaller; they give you a confused look: Now youve done it. Every thought in attendance begins to complainat you. Whyd you do that? Aww, cmon! It was just getting good! You work too hard. What? You cant make time for fun? That was the best part! Just turn it on at least until the songs over. What harm could it do? You hate yourself for doing that, dont you? Well, you should: youre a work-a-anti-musicholic. They begin to converge on your position. You tap your foot, remembering the beat that seemed to fill every empty space of your mind. Suddenly the music comes back to life: you begin to dance; everyone is having a good time. But your problem! What was it again? How are you going to solve it? Suddenly youre turned around in a circle or five by the group that was complaining the loudest. You look up and see that the loudest one was a member of the band. They came down to join in the fun. You look past the singer, thinking that you need time now. You look past them, at the cord, and turn it off. For good. Everyone vanishes. You sit down, but this romm is different: there are walls here. Everyone is gone, but the echo bounces around like the moon in a game of solar pinball. best part! What harm could it do? Music playing. you work too hard. Music plays louder.

work-a-anti-music-holic. Music doesnt stop. Echo. Thats right. Youve heard the echo before, the music after the music. This isnt as easy to get rid of, you know, youve tried. Concentrate, just concentrate, you tell yourself. The noise begins to quiet. You find that after a prolonged silence, youve invited someone that didnt come from any outside source; they didnt come from anything outside at all. They live on the inside out, and were waiting for you to make room for them so they could enter. They look down at you, smile, and hand you an envelope with one word engraved on the front: ANSWER. Option 2 Join the Party You realize youve been working hard all week and deserve a break. The problem you feel like you need to solve can always be thought about later, solved later. The music gets louder, faster. You start to dance, which is weird, you think, because you cant dance. The lead singer of your favorite band invites you on stage and you begin to sing along with them; even though you dont sound as good, their singing next to you overshadows and improves your voice. Wait . . . didnt you come here for a reason? What was it? It was something that had to do with . . . that one time . . . that one place . . . that one person . . . no. That wasnt it. You came here to relax. Thats all. Hours later. You get up off the floor. How long have you been out? You smile at the memory and reach up to feel your face. There are creases in your mouth that you havent felt since . . . but waitsmilelines. Where did they come from? You cant remember the last time youve had such a good time and think that that must be it. Streamers, glow sticks, and party-goers are scattered throughout the room. You hear a faint echo bouncing from one wall to another, an echo you cant turn off. Music. Its the song you were singing along to. Why wont it go away? you wonder. You look up and see the pattern of sound, a faint trail of light. As it comes closer to you, you reach out. Not tall enough. If only you could touch it . . . you think of the lyrics, you begin to sing. As if alive, the light turns towards the sound of your voice. It encircles around you and begins to lift you up off the floor, but you dont feel afraid, you feel light, as it were. In the calmness, the quiet lyrics of the song, you find the answer youve been looking for.

There is more than one pathway to discovery.

Moon Masks The moon is a mystery. It is a novel whose complexity increases page after page. The moon was nearly murdered, but by who? That is the mystery: People have conspired to bring it down for ages. It is a child. The moons favorite game is hide and seek (no one knows why). It hides during the day. It hides at night, but doesnt notice that some part is sticking out. It pretends we cant see it. The moon is Adams rib. Clear, bright, beautiful, dark, mysterious. The quiet, gentle way it comforts; the brightness by which we see in dark night. Not an overwhelming, overpowering sight, but reassuring and guiding. The moon is an eye. Heavens eternal eye keeps order and never blinks. Its influence cannot be seen or thought of unless it is seen or thought of. The Eye of Heaven is distant. The Eye of Heaven is close. The moon is mankinds Swiss dairy product. Can the moon be eaten? Slice the moon and put it on a sandwhich. What goes on a moon sandwhich? Some butter, that element also associated with the cow that jumps over it. Does a man dwell inside the moon? It is punishment for crimes against Planet Moon. It is a chrysalis that transforms. It is the Fortress of Solitude where Kal-El seeks rest. It is in the mind. The lonely teenager enclosed who does not come out, enclosed by a gaming console. The moon is changeable. It fits the likeness of the beholder: a woman; a mystery; a delicacy no one has or will taste; a videogame paradise. No one knows. Everyone knows. I think you know that I dont know what you know. How do I know? My eyes are not your eyes, nor are your eyes my eyes. Or are they moons?

Barbed Wire Whats that? I turned, looked, nothing there. Red walls. White walls. Flashing. There it is again. Its coming closer. How will I escape? Im shut in. If Im going to live . . . As far as living, it doesnt matter whether Im in or out of my body. (footsteps run outside, a door opens, gunfire) If Im going to die . . . As far as dying, it doesnt matter how: Its coming. I just dont wanna be there when it happens. I looked outside. Bombs were exploding. Bullets fired past. Soldiers were screaming and rolling on the ground as napalm stuck to their skin. Melting. Their skins melting right off the I turned my head away from the scene. Crouching low, I moved toward cover and pulled out my snipers rifle. After a few moments, I saw it. There it is. In the entryway of the base, it was smoking. I imagined projecting the cigarette through the back of its skull. The skull gave orders to three other men. It pulled a picture from its front pocket, stared at it. It began to cry. Its heart. The photograph hit its heart. I lowered my aim. Maybe I could hit its heart too. I saw the skull clutch the photograph with its bony fingers and extend its arm. Soldiers moved in. I knew it was going to die. I took aim, released the trigger. A spatter of blood sprayed its men. I hit its heart.

10

The skull looked at me as it fell. The clump of its body told me my location was compromised. In slow motion, I saw bullets coming toward me, except, I was no Clark Kent: I could only watch as the lead ripped through the fibers in my vest, then into my shirt, and through my skin, finally resting on soft, red and purple wet pillows of muscle and tissue: I was a human shell holder. One, two, three bullets. Two in my shoulder, one in my arm. Am I going to die? I saw enemy soldiers incapacitate three other men. I pulled a picture from my front pocket, stared at it. I began to cry. Something warm spread from my chest and throughout my entire body, something I never felt before. My heart. It hit my heart.

11

How I Beat Halo on Legendary There I was. Last level. Charges set. I had to get off, now. I hi-jacked a vehiclejumped on at just the right momentbeat the driver down. I drove my Warthog down the shaft of an exploding fiery ringHalo; if I could just get to the end, to the Dropship . . . Falling. I was falling through a hole in the metallic ring, the Flood and Grunts laughing at my timely death. Alex, its late. Lets go to bed now, okay? Cmon man! Were almost there. Lets try again. Just one more time. Perry rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, picked up his controller, and stared at the screen. There we were. Last level. Charges set. We had to get off, now. We hi-jacked vehiclesjumped on at just the right momentbeat the drivers down. We drove our Warthogs down the shaft of an exploding fiery ringHalo; if we could just get to the end, to the Dropship . . . Falling. Perry was falling through a hole in the metallic ring, the Flood and Grunts laughing at his untimely death. Its up to you man, Perry said, falling back on his pillow. You got this. He said to the ceiling.

12

Perry, Perry, check this out! I didwe did it! Oh man, I cant believe we beat Halo on Legendary. Yeah, Im gonna remember this for a long time. Me too, Perry said, stretching. Now go to bed. Its late. I lay in bed, thinking of my victory. What a great day. All that hard work . . . all that perseverance . . . all that courage . . . all . . . that . . . 5 Years Later . . . money . . . all that time . . . all that wasted energy. Looking back on it now, thats how I see beating Halo on Legendary. Who cares? Apparently me if Im writing about it. Oh, I heard stories of friends whod done it too, back in High School. Who hadnt beat Halo on Legendary? I didnt want to be among the had-nots of Halo. In fact, I didnt want to be among the had-nots of Oblivion, The Oblivion Expansions, Mass Effect, Fable, Fable 2, Bioshock, Gears of War, or Legend of Zelda for that matter. I didnt realize that being among the hads of gamers meant that I was part of the had-nots of piano players. Oh oh, how about these? Had-nots of second-language-learners, money-savers, hard-working-better-paying-jobbers, college-degree-earned-in-high-schoolers, club-joiners, highschool-sports-attenders, social-skillers, relationshippers, learning-for-learnings-sakers, you name it, I missed it. I gained skills in other areas: lock picking, arena fighting, questing, stealing, murder, paid murder, casual merchant-killing-murder (it was unfortunate when I couldnt buy any more of their wares after theyd go out of business), running for long distances across open fields, earning money from nearly every person I talked to, grave digging, blacksmithing,

13

working two, backstabbing, double backstabbing, town raiding, working three or four jobsat the same time! and finding and upgrading equipment. Did I mention these skills stayed inside the console and only worked when it was on? There. I mentioned it. As you can see, video games and I go way back. If I could call it a relationship, I would say I broke up with them even though theyve wanted to get back together. Several times. That relationship was expensive, tiring, demanding, and distracting. Theyd get jealous if one of my friends wanted to hang out; they were never content that Id just spent the whole afternoon with them because there was still the eveningand sleeping? Fuhgetaboutit. They also didnt care about school, said school was in the way. My advice about getting started? Dont start. Just say no. Dont be like me, playing until you vomit. Dont be like me, playing until youve got a massive exhaustion headache, fall asleep for it to go away, then wake up and play until it comes back. Dont be like me, missing opportunities and friends and books and savings accounts because youve spent all of your last hard-earned money on the newest $60 game. Dont be like me and hand your life over to a series of buttonsall the same buttonspressing them over and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over. Kinda repetitive, isnt it? Monotonous? Boring? Mind-numbing? Tiresome? Wearisome? Tedious? Leaden? Dry, dull, dusty, dreary, drudging, drab, draining, debilitating, dulloh, Ive already said dull. Oh, I wish Id thought, Ive already pressed that button.