Once there was a little glowing dot, that always wanted to be acknowledged. But no one wanted to, for the glowing dot annoyed them. But the glowing dot always wanted a friend, so they tried to find ways to catch people's attention. One day they found out that if someone closes their eyes and opens them looking at a bright light, they would notice the dot. Once the glowing dot caught the person's attention, they tried to converse with them, but the person did not like them. They kept screaming about how the glowing dot wouldn't go away, and after an amount of time, the dot knew they weren't wanted... and faded away. Now the glowing dots wait for friends that won't mind them being in their line of vision -cstar, trapped in Online Web Design, Period F. The dot won't go away now...
Gibberish might lull you to sleep. Read Finnegans Wake? Preferably in bed, minimal lighting, with physical copy in hand. Thus began the first chapter.
On stormy nights when the winds howl through the trees and the very house seems ready to crash in around you, a voice could once be heard on the wind. The banshee. Once upon a time, the banshee lived among the moors and the low hills. Legends surrounded the banshee, where she came from, who she was, why she screamed at night. But no one really knew the true story. You see, the banshee cried because she was lost. Lost among the marshes, the banshee wandered in the storms. Always lost, always searching, always screaming. Those who heard her never forgot the sound, and sometimes during a storm, they still listen for it. But they never hear it now, and the children of today never will. For the banshee, much like the little folk and the people of Fae, have left the planes of this world, sailing away while there is still a ship for the sailing. For, who still believes in the old tales, and looks for the pot o' gold at the end of the rainbow? Who still crawls through a green canopy glittering with dew on the spider-webs in search of the faerie? The old world has died, and there are none still who believe in it, save the few who have seen Peter Pan's ship in the clouds as he bears the fairy tales hence. The young have grown old and the old are older still, and to blow a dandelion is now only spreading weeds. The dances under the moonlight in the secret glens of the forests are all ended now, and the banshee no longer cries on the wind.
Alright Alright Alright, hear me out on this one. There once was a wee lass who would mingle about her forum message boards and interact with the good people of said forum. However there was quite the dilemma she faced when it came to her own real life outside the internet. The problem that had vexed her was that she was unable to get a wink of shut eye. Not knowing what to do in such a situation, she turned to the good people of her forums for advice. Though rather than asking directly for help in this situation of just how to get some sleep, she decided to have fun with it and request a fanciful tale told often times to young ones at night time to assist her in her need to sleep. As such the community went in full stride to try and satiate her need for a story, though none seemed to be able to accomplish such a requirement. So one such boy on these forums decided to try and take his hand at it and write down something that isn't really witty and hardly constitutes as a gripping story...wait what was i saying? Um...Once there was a giant purple hippopotamus who could use happiness breath and then saved the world the end...Moral of the story, go to bed and finish that chapter.
As I was reading the thread up to this post I was thinking how great it'd be to post that exact video, kudos.
