Rant

Hey everyone this is just me ranting and such, you may learn something about me in this but I need to do this. Maybe I will be able to finish a story after this. I love writing and I experince writers block just like everyone else. But one thing I hate more then writers block is being overwhelmed by plot ideas. This lasty week I have created six diffrent plot ideas for a site I go onto all the time called Fanfiction. For those who don't know what Fanfiction is let me explain. Its something someone does when they write something envolving someone else's characters that you do not own. I have been on a fanfiction website since July 14, 2012, it has helped me learn to write and expand on plot lines and diffrent styles of writing. I have a total of 26 stories posted on the site and more are in the making. But having Fanfiction in my head also makes my head cluttered due to my own characters and plotlines. I have been creating some of my plotlines or characters since 5th grade. One of my oldest characters is my take of the myth of the bringer of winter, his character is based off of a mix of legends about the bringer of Winter. His name is the norse version Jökul Frosti, his relationship with spring is similar but not quite to the legend of the Russian Father Frost. His personality is the mixture of the two above with the additive of Grandfather Frost and Jack Frost. But he isn't my only character, I also have a character named Väi. He is one of my most abused characters, when ever I have a bad day he always ends up suffering. I don't know why but when I feel sad I start to push that feeling onto him, he is one of my more depresing characters but his personality is kind and friendly. But with all these characters in my head last counted I had over 200 named characters I could think off the top of my head that are my own characters and at most that many I work with in fanfiction. I see insperation for all these characters every where I go. It could come from what I see, hear, or even an arguement I have with my sister. I love writing but sometimes I feel overwhelmed and just want to be by myself. Some may think I am crazy because I seem to have arguements with myself and whole conversations and I may be a little bit. But I talk to figure out conversations and I act out what my characters are doing. Thats why is anyone watches me when I start talking they can see i move from place to place and look as if I am holding things or I change the way I stand. This post was complety random but I need to put this out, my other posts have hinted to my characters. I try to seperate my personal stories from my Fanfiction so don't expect to see me talking about my stories in Fanfiction, I will only use my own characters through this.
Thank you for being patiant with this rant and hope I didn't bore you.
Ciao.

9/24

Prompt: You're in a room full of people and you're the only blind person there. Describe the room and the people in your mind.
A/N I chose this prompt because I figure it would give me practice for writing one of my characters who was born blind. Also just finished writing it and I didn't stick with what the prompt says my bad wasnt paying attention to what I was saying. 
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I lean against the wall, the cool hard stone pressed against my back and the air in front of me hot and stiffling.  People walk by me not seeing me or anyone else lost in their own worlds, they are to busy to stop and listen to their enviroment. They can't hear the splash of the fountains, or the pitched laughter of children. They can't feel the breeze thats steals its way into the building, making them shift their jackets without being aware of doing it. There voices a deafing sound constently overlapping and envolving all who were near by. At a kiask  a man from the sound of the voice and the heavy shift of his feet, dropped some of his change pulling out of his pocket. No one stopped, the sound of the man dropping to his knees making a muffled thud. One of the coins rolled to my boot, kneeling I felt for the coin. The coin was smooth with a textured surface and a bumpy edge, the size telling me it was a quarter. Stepping from the wall, I begain to dodge shoppers some not even bothering to apologize when they ran into me or I them. The man stands before I make it to the Kiask, I can hear moving to talk to the owner. With out a word I set the coin down near the man, then turn and walk away extanding my cane. the sight of the cane makes people avoide me, reminding me why I hated having the thing. Making me wish I didn't have to relly on this piece of plastic and medal to make sure I didn't trip over something. And make people realise I am not like them and they either see me as below them or they pity me. I am just like them why can't they see that? Why are they more blinded then I who by defination is blind.

9/22

In 400 words, write your ideal place.
A/N this is 399 words long so close enough.
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My ideal place would be wide and clear, nature all around me. There will be thickets of conifers scattered across the open fields of grass and snow. The wind will be clean and cool, and pull the snow from its slumber on the ground and dance across the air. Herds of deer would wonder from wood to wood, and the howls of wolves could be heard in the distance. There would be scattered villages with wood board houses and smoke curling from the chimney. The people would be a community living in a simpler time and welcome a friendly new face. There would be gathering around the fire and stories would be told and songs sang. Back to the country there would be signs of winter everywhere even in the depths of summer. The songs of winter will play year round and though the days could be grey, you can still see the beauty in everything. The forests will be quite havens to all who enter and be a completely different world. Everything would be quite and you can feel the beat of something ancient pulsing under your feet. Like a church the forest will give a presence of something greater then you and you will be safe in its recesses. Above you can hear the songs of birds, and feel the touch of the sun as it streams through the branches. The sounds of the beasts of the forest will alert you to their presence and if you are lucky could see the grace of an old stage, or the sight of a laughing wolf in the confines of the woods. As you walk further you can feel something guiding you, deeper into the forest to the heart. You can also smell the sharp scent of cedar and pine as you crush there needles under your feet, and the crisp smell of snow. In the heart you would find a massive structure of white marble. A city seemingly grown from the ground reaches towards the sky, the top of the highest tower gleaming in the winter sun. Around the city are empty fields and the boundary of the woods and city marked by white tiles of marble. The city is left empty and perfect the power of the world radiating from its walls, and if you are quite you can hear the knowledge of times long since passed. 

Look at a magazine and find a picture that appeals to you. Cut it out, paste it in your notebook and write about it. 
Picture is from Fairbanks Alaska and I do not own it. 

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 I am changing this due to the fact google images is easier to get then from a magazine. Now that I got that little detail out of the way, let’s begin. Please be warn I will properly make this more like a story and most of this will be a free write without me going back and rewriting it. 

The sun stains the sky with pinks and purples as it slowly sinks below the horizon masked by a screen of furs. Distant from the heavens is the cold ground, where ice creeks and groans as it spreads its deadly fingers across a glossy surface, and the slumbering trees. In the distance a abandon farm lies pass an iron bridge, that once carried the lives blood of the land. Closer was an impressive estate that even in its faded state still gives a glory that ravels the nature that slowly chokes it. In front of the estate lies a black river of ice that crumbles more and more each passing season. The people are gone, but the trees that slumber in there icy cocoons remember. They remember the laughter of children who skated across the frozen recesses of the pond, and the yells of mothers who beckoning their young ones in for night was near. The fathers came from the barns, and woods bundles of wood clutched to their sides. They remember the bellowing of cattle in the barn and the whinnies of the horses. But those are gone now the only sounds being that of a lone wolf, or the screams of a pheasant as a fox kills it. The pond is empty of children and remains pristine in its natural state, waiting for the thawing of spring. The trees bow their branches in the cold wind, that signals that winter has only begun and that the emptiness will remain. 

Sleepsong by Secret Garden (with lyrics)

Evanescence-My Immortal lyrics

Tsubasa Chronicles - Break the Sword of Justice

Please ignore the figure in the middle, this song is a character song for one of the characters in the anime called Tsubasa Chronicles.