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If only having a dream was the perquisite for success then let me tell you, this world would be in chaos! The strength of our dreams are not determined by how vivid our imagination for those dreams are nor by how strongly we think we believe in them but rather by the dedication, determination and hard work we put in trying to turn them into reality. Having an unerring faith in our own abilities and taking action to fulfill our potential should supersede the initial belief that forms when we dream. That latent potential found in all of us should be nurtured and the best way to tap into our potential ability is education. Knowledge is a powder keg that can ignite and burn our dreams into reality. To be in a state of ignorance is to deny our soul the answers that it desperately yearns for. To voluntarily turn our backs on any form of learning is a slap to the faces of those in the world who cannot, due to circumstances beyond them, gain an education. Never say no to acquiring new information. Our brains need to soak up all the culture that is available to us. As to understand our environment is to better understand the world that we live in. Is higher education reserved for the crème de le crème? Is obtaining a degree only for those fortunate and privileged to be able to afford one? If this is the thinking of the world then the world itself is doomed. A degree is not beyond any one of us. There is no obstacle that cannot be overcome with sheer determination and hard work. To think one is not skillful enough, to doubt one’s own abilities, to concede defeat only serves to drag our brains into the quagmire of mediocrity. Never give up, never think it is hopeless. If one door closes then force open another door...
Webpage: http://s15.zetaboards.com/mao_inoue/topic/478279/1/
[Online]. [Acessed 29th September 2011].
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Idol
Idol
  By Valiente Rook
The one with faithful devotion in her heart stood, her hand clasped with the hand of the idol called Akira. Jackie and Akira: a scandalous proposition, one which the entertainment world has not known. Grip, never let go, forever holding on Jackie cannot let go. Why does she feel like her idol will shatter if her grip was any tighter?
Silence.
Darkness breathed around them.
“Akira!” Jackie screamed, searching frantically for the only hand that could grant her comfort.
“Please be alright!” Tears started to drip down her face. Drip after drip the dark blank canvas in which they lay started to fill, rising slowly with her salty tears. They were drowning and nothing could stop them from such an untimely fate.
“Jackie!” The voice of Akira shot through the sea of tears as sonar radiating all around. With these words the tears that once suffocated them had evaporated and Jackie once again could touch the only being that granted her happiness. 
Jackie held Akira’s hand tightly and with a smile on her face she turned to face him.
The glass had broken.
Something had cracked and Jackie, horrified knew what. Her hand began to bleed and to her dismay she saw that the once soft hand of Akira had turned to glass. His hand had shattered and her will went with it.
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Nurse Abigail
Nurse Abigail
  By Valiente Rook
A very clinical aroma hits her nose every morning. To her, the business of lives only appears to be a routine and mundane process. What can nurse Abigail do but deal with what’s in front of her each day. The morgue what an interesting place to be, how did it turn out this way? Sat atop swinging her legs with a smile etched across her face, devoid of any emotions - lost it seems.
Anaesthetic injected
As Abigail regained conscience she found herself in a white room. Lying on a table in the middle of the room was a faceless body. In Abigail’s hand appeared a scalpel; her attire now from nurse’s white to surgeon’s green. In whose hands does death await? Sweat started to form on her brow and her hand started to shake. “I, I, I’m not ready.” She whispered. The faceless body stirred, it hovered above the table and floated towards her. The body’s heartbeat began to become louder and louder as it moved closer and closer. With a clatter, Abigail dropped the scalpel.
Suddenly the lifeless, faceless body dropped to the floor causing Abigail to sigh in relief as she too fell to the floor in a heap. For a second it seemed everything was quiet, but unknown to her creeping from the ceiling were throbbing arteries and veins. Slowly the blood vessels covered the ceiling. They started to descend down and like tentacles they swiftly wrapped themselves around Abigail’s body, gagging her mouth to muffle her screams and yanking her into the air.
She had become cocooned in the red vessels, lost in the warm blood that flowed from within. She was left hanging as if in some hive, forever lost.
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0's and 1's, in the psyche of such a world a name does not mean a thing.
  ~ By Valiente Rook
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“A life in the public”
“A life in the public”
  By Valiente Rook “Tell me, what is an illusion of the mind? Dreams? Hope? Love? Luck? Is all this just an illusion of the mind? Am I an illusion for the hope of millions who dream and love me from their hearts? Do you think that they perhaps by the roll of a die, out of luck pray to lay eyes on me in the flesh?” “Perhaps the habit of society is the illusion. Some sick illusion trying like crazed insatiable dogs to seek some sort of reality from the lives of breakable humans. Breakable, lives fragment easily. We all want to escape from it, don’t we? Nothing but voyeurs the species of human that we have become.”
“Fickle are our emotions, too fickle to trust. A sad life we lead, one that can shatter illusions and it is we who end up broken.”
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valienterook:
“el moro”
By Valiente Rook
el moro they say was loco. Loco? My salaams to the loco, peace. For you built beauty in the west, transferred the world from the east. Respect what you did, from dust life grew. Flourished your world, waters flowed anew. Knowledge you gave my friend brought...
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valienterook:
“A Heart of Glass”
By Valinete Rook
A heart of glass cannot beat nor pump blood or bleed. Emotionless and still I could not feel. Such a curse my life had been. Until like an angel you came in. With a touch of your breath, my soul started moving. With every thump you etched through, slowly...
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valienterook:
“Untitled One”
By Valiente Rook
The beauty of the dying sun on a moonless night, overshadows the heart of a stranger, ever glowing. Like the stars overhead, darker in light, emotionless and still, all silent and all knowing. The heavenly soul, full of tears covers the sky never moving and...
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valienterook:
“Children in Need”
By Valiente Rook
Too small to know, to understand. Too scared to ask for a hand. Through the covers I see, through the covers I ask why me? Hidden away I cry away my pain and I question my brain, what did I do to deserve their disdain? A world of bloodshed, is all I can...
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Answer
Answer
  By Valiente Rook
Is it just me but do you guys find the word answer weird?
I pronounce it an-sar and its spelled answer - ans-wer. Almost spells out "ants were", ants were what? In your pants?
Maybe that’s how it came about two wig wearing English gentry, drinking away in some posh pub...
#1: "'ere what word do you fink we should 'ave for when someone replies to ya?"
That’s how they spoke back then in some weird slang:
#2: "Hmmm respond?"
#1: "Nah it has to be somefink new, innit!"
#2: "'Ow about, 'ow bout“
The guy starts scratching his tights, - woot?
Ye olde England, they wore tights back then! I mean that’s what you call a proper man, ain't afraid to show their feminine side. See men back then weren’t all "in the kitchen with ya!" to ladies they did care, cared so much that they wore their partners or mothers, if they were single, tights. If you did that now you'd be called a pervert, not unless you have super powers then it’s apparently okay.
Where was I? Yeah so he'd be scratching his tights and trying to get his point across:
#2: "'Ow, 'ow bout...ants"
"I'm listenin’" the other guy says.
"Hmm? Sorry ants were-"
#1: "That’s it, answer!!!! Brilliant lets go and get it in the Oxford dictionary!"
#2: "Nah I wasn't going to say, I meant there were... oh what the heck as if it would catch on! You know what?"
#1: "What?"
#2: "'Ow bout we change encyclopaedia to Wikipedia?"
#1: "You 'avin a laugh? It would never catch on, mate you just spoilt it with that comment... Wikipedia, honestly! I suppose next you would want any commoner providing information!" *sniggers* "And maybe even universal suffrage!"
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Silence of the Tasered
Silence of the Tasered
  By Valiente Rook
It was dark when Mao crept back into her room.
"You still wake up sometimes, don't you? You wake up in the dark and hear the screaming of the lambs."
The sound of Jun's voice startled Mao. He sat there in the dark swirling casually a glass of whiskey he held in his hand.
"Yes." Mao hypnotically said focusing on the whiskey, swirling and swirling in the glass.
A twisted smile formed on Jun's face; slowly he got up and swaggered towards Mao.
"And you think if you can be with Ryo, you could make them stop, don't you? You think if you're with Ryo, you won't wake up in the dark ever again to that awful screaming of the lambs."
Frightened Mao responded; her voice barely a whisper,
"I, I don't know. I don't know." Tears started to form from the corners of her eyes, the moonlight made them sparkle. Such a sight caused Jun to stop in his tracks; he looked into Mao's eyes with lustful contempt.
"Thank you, Mao. Thank you." he said and in one swift moment he grabbed a hold of Mao's face, placing both his hands on her cold cheeks. He wiped away the tears with his thumbs as the glass which he once held smashed, spilling whiskey all over the floor.
"A waitress once tried to test me. I ate the liver she served with some fava beans and a nice chianti..." Making a hissing slurping noise he kissed her lips catching Mao by surprise.
Mao did not know what hit her; maybe it was the cheesy Silence of the Lambs lines or Jun's poor kissing technique, whatever it was she quickly pushed him away. More tears started to roll down her cheeks as Jun let out the shuddering hissing slurping noise again,
"You're mine now!"
"No I'm not" and with these words she pulled out a taser and tasered Jun.
End
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The Lynx Effect
The Lynx Effect
  By Valiente Rook
Random Woman 1: "You're so handsome...Ohhhh I want you!"
Random Woman 2: "I want you too!!!"
Random Woman 3: "Me too"
*Hundreds of girls rush towards Johnny Depp*
Random Woman 4: "His mine!!!"
Random Woman 5: "Get off him!"
*Out of nowhere appears Bill Gates*
Bill Gates: "Hey ladies!" *Flashes cash*
Random Woman 1: "Bill Gates, Oh you're so hot!
*Most of the girls hugging on to Johnny Depp rush towards Bill Gates*
*Another appears out of nowhere. A skinny, pale faced, glasses wearing, spotted Geek*
Geek: "Hey ladies!" *Smug look on face even though no one is paying him any attention*
*The Geek rips open his shirt and sprays Lynx all over himself*
Random Woman 3: "What’s that smell?"
Random Woman 4: "It’s coming from that...that oh hot piece of pasty complexion over there!"
*All the women run over and practically maul the geek*
~THE LYNX EFFECT~
[If you read the small print on Lynx bottles it actually states that this only happens in one out of a billion cases and your chances increase if you're actually hot....most of the time this happens]
Random Woman 3: "What’s that smell?"
Geek:"Yeah, that’s right no point rushing towards me all at once!"
Random Woman 4: "Ew....It’s coming from that geek over there!"
Random Woman 5: "Ha-ha What the heck! Who does he think he is!!! With that skinny body and ugly face!"
*Everyone ends up laughing at the geek*
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My Smoke
My Smoke
   By Valiente Rook
“Smoke” That smoke, that so tempting smoke of saints. How I need it, need its hand. That smoke, that smoke which prevails. What smoke, it cannot taint. Outside I’m open, open in its hail. Inside, it whispers, deep in my heart. That smoke, that damn smoke of the jinn. How I have no control, no control of my will. That smoke, that smoke which I inhale. What smoke, the flames of sin. Outside I’m covered, covered in its veil. Inside, it lingers, hiding in my thoughts. That smoke, such poetic smoke. How it whispers, lingers after she’s gone. That smoke, my smoke, her nails. What smoke, my smoke, it was my smoke. Outside, it followed, followed her without fail. Inside, it sat, sat burning her lungs, composing her requiem which was to be sung. —- “I do” “You may now kiss the bride” he whispered holding their wedding picture. Tears poured down onto the already wet photo as he leaned to kiss his love. “It’s been a week, she’s gone…hold me in your grasp” Whispers….NO…her smell still lingers….“You need me and you know it, it’s not our fault….she was always against us and now you’re free…” He stared at the glass ashtray; the ash filled astray sitting on the table, his hands trembling yet his gaze firm. “No” He said in a low gruff voice and then with all his might he swung his arm, smashing the ashtray to the ground. He looked as the broken glass pieces glinted and sparkled in the moonlight basking in from the window. “Ashes, why do your ashes have to be so near ME!” He screamed rushing to the floor like a crazed man frantically flinging the ashes that lay scattered on the floor away from him. He didn’t care that the broken sparkling glass from the ashtray turned to red, his palms all cut and grazed he collapsed onto his back. “Why can’t her ashes be here?” Again he whispered looking at the blood pouring from his trembling cut hands. Tears began to flow again. He closed his eyes and filled his heart with thoughts about her, and again guilt filled his heart. “Our affair is much older than your fling with her! Your need, I can quench your guilt, I can heal you, reach for me!” “No, no, no. Oh God No!” He wept, streams of tears gushing from his eyes. They turned to red as he covered his face with his hands. He couldn’t breathe; sorrow was stuck in his throat and agony in his heart. Yet a new feeling had come over him, a feeling of desire. “Yes, come to me and forget all your thoughts!” Slowly he stood up, his heart in utter disbelief; he tried to bury his conscience. Convulsions had over taken him before he could stop himself he reached for the bin and took out the packet. “Ahhhhh” he sighed in relief as he pursed his lips sucking in the smoke from the lit cigarette. Momentarily a sense of calm had fallen over him. He hadn’t known such pleasure before and then all his suppressed memories came rushing back to him, as the dam holding them burst. His heart felt a sharp pain with every beat as anger rushed through his blood. He looked at the cigarette in his hand, he couldn’t believe his eyes. “I’m kissing my wife’s murderer….” He said in disbelief. “We are your wife’s murderers…” He bellowed in anguish as he ripped open his shirt. Trailing with his free hand he felt for his heart beat and in a fit of anger put out the lit cigarette on his chest where his heart lay. His chest burnt as the flames were put out, yet the flames beating from his heart raged on. He collapsed to the floor, dropping the extinguished cigarette. The burning of his flesh was nothing to the burning he felt within. He was engulfed in a ring of guilt; he could not stop trembling as a river of tainted tears flew from his eyes. “Why her lungs and not mine!” He was in despair, Why, why, why? These words echoed in his guilt burdened mind. He could not breath due to the weight of mourning in his throat, he gasped with every breath and then a voice entered his heart, it was not his harsh conscience but an angelic whisper, the voice it was that of his departed lover. “Till smoke do us part” —- From ashes to ashes, dust to dust. A puff of smoke shall destroy our love. From ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
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Can You Be Trusted?
Can You Be Trusted?
  By Valiente Rook
Are you mesmerized by the internet? It’s alluring alright I mean it’s a whole new world. Whether it be simply surfing, downloading, shopping, playing games, chatting on messenger or in chatrooms there’s lots to do. Facebook! How can we forget Facebook and Myspace? All our personal details snippets here and there floating around in cyber space. What a world to be part of. Downside? Viruses, yup those annoying malicious codes that somehow infect and wreck havoc all over our pristine ordered P.C. life. So I guess that is people’s biggest fear about the web (never mind being spied upon by the government but that’s a different story). Well people you’re wrong. There’s something even bigger to fear than simple viruses and I’m not talking about losing your internet connection. Like almost everything nowadays its origins are set somewhere in Asia to be more precise, the part of Asia excluding the Indian subcontinent, Central Asia and the Middle East. A sad tale of doomed love. In Asia there once lived this girl. Bullied in school for 14 years of her life, she withdrew herself from the physical world and started anew on the internet. Here she found acceptance, happiness and finally love. She could not believe her eyes, here was a handsome guy (from the pictures she saw) completely head over heels in love with her. He listened to her, comforted her, made her feel wanted, made her feel special and then one day he decided to meet her. Hearing these words made her squeal in delight, finally her prince in shining armour was going to come and whisk her away! The day came where she went to meet him, she didn’t even care that the meeting place was in a quiet part of the town’s park. All she knew was blissful happiness at the thought of seeing her love in the flesh for the first time. After waiting 5 minutes in a whirl so fast, BANG! She was knocked over the head, unconscious she fell into a dream of anticipating love, only to awake into a nightmare. Her heart beating faster and faster at her surroundings, she was tied to a bed, gagged in a dim lit room. Realization struck her, her beating heart stopped, she was not loved, never had been. What followed was a torrid of abuse which was to be showcased over the internet. All her life she had been shunned, picked on by her peers, ridiculed by her family and now the only hope she had too had betrayed her, the internet, her non-existent love had finally destroyed her. Some days later her heart had given way, in truth her heart had stopped beating when she realized that she was never wanted. Sad as it may be her soul was not so weak. Before she had passed away she vowed revenge on those that did this to her and to her amazement she became one to the thing that led to her ill-fate, the internet. A soul full of hatred, venom and only pain unleashed her mirth on her abusers. Destroying their income by infecting their evil websites. She was able to trace all the users and the creators…to her delight she had control over all things electrical, including their P.C.’s, and so begun her eerie plan. She stalked them, left them death messages, flooding their emails and feeding their P.C’s with incurable viruses. Watching them through their very own webcam they became her entertainment. Many users went mad; the creators, her abusers, were mysteriously found dead, strangulated it seemed by the wires of their own P.C.’s. Their death posted on their own site and left on their P.C. screens the words “You cannot be trusted”. Her revenge did not end there; one by one everyone that had mistreated her had ended up dead, strangulated, with the same message on their P.C.’s “You cannot be trusted”. And so it went on, her pain was not quenched. After she went, all those that seemed to be living untrustworthy lives. Surfing through their Myspace, Facebook, social sites pretending to be them, pretending to be their friends. Over the net she stalked joining forums, chatrooms, pretending, finding targets. Anyone who she deemed untrustworthy, who portrayed a life of bad, evil, lust was wiped, strangulated with the words “You cannot be trusted” across their P.C. screens. So can you be trusted?
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