If I weren't a UALB

Title: If I weren't a UALB
Author: SilverInk
Writing: Rant
Word Count: 604

If I weren’t a UALB, I wouldn’t roleplay.

If I weren’t a UALB, I would have  had my chemistry homework done over 24 hours ago.

If I weren’t a UALB, I wouldn’t be worried about AP tests at all.

If I weren’t a UALB, I would have a lot more stuff written.

If I weren’t a UALB, I wouldn’t be hoping that by some random miracle I get into UCI.

If I weren’t a UALB, I would have better grades.

If I weren’t a UALB, I wouldn’t be worried about AP tests because I would be well prepared for all of them.

If I weren’t a UALB, I would be done with another project in Photoshop.

If I weren’t a UALB, I wouldn’t have spent so much time downloading a MMORPG. 

If I weren’t a UALB, I would have figured out how to get Maya 2008 for Mac by now.

If I weren’t a UALB, I wouldn’t be hoping that  by some random miracle I get into UCI because I would be absolutely sure I could and would get it.

If I weren’t a UALB, I would be doing research on whatever strikes my fancy.

If I weren’t a UALB, I wouldn’t have spent so much time figuring out how to download a MMORPG correctly.

If I weren’t a UALB, I would have defined that UCI stood for University of California Irvine before I started ranting about it.

If I weren’t a UALB, I wouldn’t have spent so much time figuring out how to download a MMORPG correctly and then downloading it wrong anyways.

If I weren’t a UALB, I would get a lot more sleep each night.

If I weren’t a UALB, I wouldn’t be worried about AP tests because I would be overly- prepared for all of them.

If I weren’t a UALB, I would have edited this rant so that the definition of UCI came before my ranting of it.

If I weren’t a UALB, I wouldn’t be awake at 00:30 on a school day.

If I weren’t a UALB, I would have a cleaner, more organized room and workspace.

If I weren’t an UALB, I wouldn’t have only just realized that “a UALB” is grammatically incorrect.

If I weren’t an UALB, I would go back and fix all those “a UALB” mistakes now.

If I weren’t an UALB,  I wouldn’t be writing this right now.

But I am an UALB, and I am writing this right now, I did just realized that that “a UALB” is grammatically incorrect, I am awake at 00:30 on a school day, I did spend so much time figuring out how to download an MMORPG and then downloading it incorrectly multiple times anyway, I am worried about AP tests, I do roleplay, and I hoping that by some random miracle I get into UCI.

But I am an UALB and I have not fixed all those “ a UALB” mistakes, I did not define UCI before ranting about it, I am not getting optimal sleep each night, I did not figure out how to get Maya 2008 on the Mac, I am not researching about whatever strikes my fancy, I did not get much more writing done, I am not getting better grades, I did not finish another project on Photoshop, and I am not done with my chemistry homework.

I am an UALB and while I don’t have the ability to do 75 chemistry problems in 48 hours, I can whip up a 604 word rant in half an hour.

I am, unfortunately, an UALB.

*Note: An UALB is an Useless And Lazy Bum.

Artist's Note: "And if I weren't a UALB, I would have defined a UALB before I wrote this rant."

Hello! This was written about a week back, and I've only gotten around to posting it now >.<

Since no one commented on the mini-post thread, I can't exactly start another profile project =.= So please, if you have any characters whose backgrounds you'd like to read, or any questions, please comment there! :) :)

~SilverInk <--is back!

Overwhelmed

Title: Overwhelmed
Author: SilverInk
Writing: Rant 
Word Count: 537

She fell face first in the dirt and did not get up. The sand stained her plain clothes and the wind tangled her short hair and she lay there, silent tears streaming softly down.

Failure.

Whoever knew it would hit her so strong? Whoever would have guessed, that beneath the arrogant layers, beneath the confident façade, beneath the brave mask, there were deeply rooted fears? Fears that had been carefully folded away, stitched invisibly into the subconscious heart. Fears that she convinced herself she did not have. Fears that now burst forward like a rushing river crashing past a dam, like a waterfall plunging to its doom, like a tsunami that burst from a harmless puddle.

Useless.

 Her hand clenched into a fist. When did she become this, this person she feared most to be? Was it really all an act? Why couldn’t she now be the person she used to be? Why did everything have to come crashing…now?

Lost.

And now that she was this…thing…she had so feared, where would she go? Where did the path lead to, and who stood along that path? What must she do to get onto the right path? That is, if there was a right path.

Chased

And then the memories. The past that was haunting her, dripping ice into her heart with perverse glee, watching her writhe with fire burning within her mind, trying desperately to keep back the fearsome cold. She wasn’t afraid of the past, but sometimes the aspects of her history that she had worked so hard to keep hidden resurfaced, making present-day connections with remembrances from long ago.

Lachrymal glands gone wild but self all but muted, she scrunched into a ball on the ground and as if clinging to an invisible anchor, she held herself together. Fighting feebly the fiery explosion of feelings that consumed her, she fell, freely fading into the fine fringe of dark gray that blocked out the false reality.

It was over.

The battle had been fought, and lost; at the end there had been a glimmer of something she faintly remembered was called “Hope” or “Faith” or something along those lines, but it was transient. The misery however, was not.

The war was still raging, but she stuck her mind into the course sand she was lying on and pretended it didn’t exist. Tried to. But reality exists within the mind, and what is carved into the mind remains intractably engraved in the mind; thus reminders of failure and present crisis remained immutable ingrained in her conscience, covering any happy graffiti quickly—pride and contentment became as fleeting as an impulse leaping down a myelinated neuron.

Neurons whose sodium and  potassium channels soon became stubbornly fixed in a partially open position; they become defected channels and impassionedly leave the pump to maintain a shifty equilibrium.

But what if the pump too, stops functioning?

Because the impulses keep coming, the war keeps raging. She cringed again, knowing perfectly well that she was in a war, that this war had not ended, that this war could not be lost, that this war would determine her fate.

She crumpled up, both mentally and physically, unable to handle anything when she felt overwhelmed.


Artist's Note: Sorry about the brevity of it...


Another apology: Since AP tests are coming up, this will be MY last post until after the AP tests in a few weeks. After the AP tests, I should have more time to do more about my writing/art and there should, theoretically, be more posts or better quality. Theoretically. 


I will be posting the character profile mini-poll comment post that explains how it's going to run :) Please comment!
~SilverInk