Four Eyes? You’re not doing it right

May I raise a question. It’s a pretty simple one. It’s one that’s been bothering me for a while. And here it is. Why would you give a alien creature your making four eyes?


Here’s an image of an alien from the game Mass Effect. I love you Bio Ware but I have no idea how giving anything, four eyes like this would make any sense? …Maybe this isn’t a simple question. Here, let me nit pick this for you.
Humans have binocular vision, meaning we have two eye that are use together as a pear. This allows us humans to track one thing at a time and have pretty good depth perception and such. It looks something like this


Simple right? Okay so now someone could argue: well if you have four eyes, it could allow you to track two things at once. And yes, that is most likely true. But if that’s so, why hasn’t nature taken advantage of that? Out of the many many animals,  only one  creature has more then  two eyes, the arachnids.


That’s right! Spiders! (I hate spiders…-shutters-) But why do these little creeps have so many. Well—did you know that spider’s can’t turn their heads? (Except for jumping spider’s. But they’re just weird.) No I didn’t, you say. Well now you do. Notice where these spider’s eyes are? No? Let me show you a better picture.
tumblr_nvly47xadI1tv18aqo1_500.jpgNotice a trend? Most of these little eight eyed freaks have at least two pares of their eyes located on the side of their head. This leads me to the conclusion that the little spider needs those eyes of theirs to compensate for the inability to move it’s head and look  around and track, like most living things with eyes can. 2237688.png
This love picture proves my theory.

So there’s one good reason not to randomly slap on another set of eyes. If your alien or whatever creature your make, can move it’s head to pin point a sound and focus on it, then it probably doesn’t need another pair of forward facing eyes. It’s redundant.
That also brings my attention to another point. Let’s say  you argue that  your creature cant’t move it’s eyes instead. So to make up for that, it has extra eyes. Well here’s where I kill your idea with—


Slavery in Our Time


For as long as people have had power over other’s they have exerted it in many forms—one of them being slavery. From ancient times in Greece and Rome, prisoners of war were made slaves, to do the work no one wanted to do, or to die for entertainment in the arenas. Forced to fight animal and man


Fast forward some centuries and you have explorers going to Africa, and taking the people that lived there away to “enlighten the poor savages.”  Fast forwards even more and you come upon a part of American history that she does not pride. The time of segregation and slavery widespread throughout the south. How the white man thought he could just use another human being based on his color. In those times, the slaves were forced at he best, to be housed slaves in the city where they were treated pretty well. Still as property but they were usually fed enough. At worst, they were forced to do back braking labor for hours on end in the fields with little to eat.NorthwestTerritory2-bet.com_.jpg

Now in our day and age, we think that the in human acts of the past have stayed in that past. They haven’t though. Today in the use, we don’t have the slavery of old…not in a legal sense at any rate. Today, thousands upon thousands of people are sold in a nasty game of human trafficking. It happens in thought the world. All the major countries have suffer from it.

Unlike the days of old, it’s no longer socially expectable to own a slave(s) but that hasn’t stopped people from performing the art of enslavement. Now in our modern age, a slave is used for crooked business not willing to pay a normal worker. Now, they enslave entire families to preform back breaking labor.

Things that sound so simple and normal to us that we hardly give it a thought. Construction, brick making, mining, making silks, chocolate, fishing, textiles; all things that people are forced to do every day of their lives for no play. Entire generations of families forced to perform this work day after day.


Most of the time, the unfortunate people that fall into this system are the ones trying to make a better future of their families. They leave their home countries, everything they new, in hope that they’ll find better work somewhere else. The people they pay to get them there illegal usually lie to them. Taking them places were they are forced to work for nothing.

Imagine that, day in and day out being forced to work, having told your family that you left them to make them more money. Now you make nothing, trapped in a strange and scary land where you now nothing. Where your unable to ask for help and even if you could, you might not even be able to speak the langue. Or even worst, you come from a life were, slavery is the only thing you’ve ever known. Can you imagine what it would be like not even knowing you had right



This all I have to say and I hope my words spread some awareness.



I would like to tell you something

So, as I just stated in the title, I’d like to tell my followers something. I moved! I’m no longer going to be using this site really. I’ve made a new one and it’s much more orientated to creative writing. I’m thinking about reposing my stuff here on this site to the new one. So if anyone liked what I have her, I suggest checking out my other site and see if you like anything there. Its called Writer’s Block. Support would be great guys!

Hello Everybody!

Well I as I just said above, hello everybody. It’s been server so months since I’ve looked at this blog (not that anyone noticed) but now I’m back. This time I hope that I’m able to go some new heights with this blog. Take it in a bette direction to do some better things

Her on my blog I’d like to keep up my little trend of doing artsy little tips and tricks. It’s good to keep your mind creative and thinking of new little projects to keep it occupied. Well I want to help you do that if for some reason you can’t do it in your own. Don’t feel insulted by that, after all, you wouldn’t have clicked your way to my site if you didn’t need a pit of help. So just spit it out and admit you need help and I’ll provide as a happy tiny bee that works it’s life away to make you people happy. …Well you know, I’ll at least try.

I did post a few thing up here last year and a few of them people didn’t think were too bad so maybe you won’t either. Well that’s all I have to say to you for today. I’m being a bit stupid right now and writing this at four in the morning because, you know, reasons. So I hope you people start seeing things on this blog that are helpful and somewhat cool perhaps. Okay being cool is stretching it but at least helpful.

Okay kids, let’s get creative!


Pieces of My Childhood

I Remember at one point I ranted about how I felt people just grew up and forgot about how it was being a kid. This post here does a great job at hanging onto the childhood and remembering it.

Just Go With the Flow❀~

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Impression Sunrise


“Hurry up!”

“I’m going as fast as I can!”

“That’s obviously not fast enough!”

James slanted his eyes in irritation at his companion. Henry took no notice of the anger glare. He keep his eyes trained on the streets, making sure no one was around to see them. The streets stood empty though, not that that made him feel any better.

“Henry, do you really think he was-“

“Of course he was you fool!” Henry snapped in a furious whisper. “You saw all the blood.”

“God Henry, we killed a man.”

“You shot him first. Jumpy as a damned rabbit!”

James could have sworn that he and Henry had shot the merchant at the same time, but after the panic and fleeing the store, the memory now was a mixed bluer. More he thought about it, the more likely it seemed that he had shot first. Henry was right; he was jumpier than a rabbit. Over all though, it was a disastrous robbery.

“Damn, James, you done yet?”

“Almost. It’s not like I can see what I’m doing too well.” In truth, even though the gray twilight of the foggy morning cast everything in a dark gloom, it was the ever persistent shaking of his hands that kept him from untying the knot. Finally he managed to loosen the rope. “Okay, we’re good!”


James ignored the sarcasm in Henry’s voice as pushed the row bot away from the small dock and hoped in after it. Henry had been sitting at the stern as James had been working. Now hefting a long rod, he stood up and began to push the boat though the gray waters.

“Henry, what are we going to do?” James asked as he leaned over the edge of the boat, letting his hand trail in the fidget wavelets.

“I don’t’ know,” he mumbled back. “Find the first ship to London and never come back to Paris.” James let those words sink in. Run from Paris because they had killed a man.

Everything had been a bluer but he remembered so clearly the five shots, the shocked expression that stuck permanently to the man’s face as he’s body danced in the final spasms of death. He felt light headed as the image of the man’s glazed eyes stared back at him.

Henry raised an eyebrow as he watched James suddenly vomit over the edge of the boat. Poor man was in shock, he thought to himself. At least he had the good sense to be sick into the water rather than in the boat. As he continued to watch the gasping and trembling figure, hunched over pathetically, he noticed the misty sheets of the fog start to shimmer with an orange-red haze. Looking down the water he saw the dark silhouette of mast from ships docked along the shore. There, a perfect orb reflecting its sad light onto the water now; a red sun rose into fog. Henry gazed at it for a moment, than turned away, forcing the rod into the water a bit harder, so that the icy water splashed up at him. That red sun reminded him far to much of the blood that had been spilled before it had even risen.

Henry suddenly stiffened as he saw another boat occupied with a few fisherman not to fair from them. “James, get ahold of yourself!” he snapped. “If they see you tumbling and moaning like a loon they’re gonna think something’s up!” James glanced balefully back at him. Not saying anything though, he did his best to keep himself from being sick again. Slowly they passed the small fishing boat. He watched them bob by in silence. Red haze on the water turned it sinister. And just as with Henry, it reminded him far to much of the blood that had been split by their own hands. God they were killers now. A whole world of normal life had just been lost to them. Now…now he didn’t know what would happen to them–that’s what made him so sick that it quavered his very soul.

“Please oh God, have mercy on our souls”

Tiny Mighty Mouse and Dragon

Squeak squeak, says the mouse. Roar roar, goes the dragon.

This mouse is a trickster, always using the great dragon.

The dragon is so loving with all her kind gifts but the little mouse takes them without ever thanking.

 Today my day feels sad, unable to do what it had intended.

I promised her I would finish, just adding to my string of lies.

Every turn I seem to mess it up. Every step I seem to get berated for my wrongs.

Life seems so unkind to me. But I am the one unkind to it.

I’m not here to cry or complain. It’s all my fault.

“Life is a matter of choices. Live it well and it will never go wrong”

I’ve lived several of my choices wrong. Now I can’t have a conversation with her.

It always turns into a berating, a full on shouting match.

The dragon roars her fury while the mouse mocks and squeaks, taking off with her gold to buy herself some cheese.

I take my choices and throw them to the breeze.


Waist her gold on such useless treat, cheese sweets and more.

Care about important things, she says. Stop playing with such useless things such as cheese and sweets.

I want to care but how do I? How do you make yourself care?

This issues seem so far away but the dragon keeps on yelling and the mouse keeps in mocking.

eventually comes a day when the mouse come to her provider, the great and mighty dragon only to find her long gone.

The entrance to her cave sealed away behind hard stone.

No more gold for the mouse who thought herself so mighty. Her cheese and sweets she can no longer get. The dragon was her provider.

Without the dragon’s help, she finally sees she’s quite tiny in this giant world. Without her mighty dragon protector, she is quite alone.

I should have heed the her words, not play her like a fiddle.

Steal her gold, steal her trust to buy fruitless cheese and sweets.

Now I am all alone as the the mighty dragon weeps.

 Screen Shot 2015-04-08 at 8.45.33 PM


7c802b5befc332b23bccd30e0c1bb566This is going to just sound like a jealous rant, but I’m telling you right know, it’t not.

This week, a friend of mine has been really excited for her Sweet 16, witch is on this Sunday. Good for her. She’s almost an adult. Then why doesn’t she start acting a bit more like one? She ever so kindly handed out an invitation to another one of my friends. Then she goes off on how she’s going to have a limo and their going to go to some fancy dandy arcade (that I’ve never even heard off) in front of me and another on of our friends that she didn’t invite. Are you starting to see something wrong here? She of course apologies to me and our other friend for not inviting use. I don’t have enough room, *insert other excuses* but if I did, I would totally invite you, blah blah blah. Okay, I get that she would probably want friends she’s known for longer and are closer to to be at her special day. Blabbing and chatting about how it with people she’s not going to invite though, well….

A day or so goes by and she’s still excited. Cool, be excited! It’s your 16th birthday! (It’s not that different from turning 15 but, I should know, but whatever. Be happy). I see her again in class with the same friend once more. She babbling about her birthday. It suddenly seems that two people can’t make it. who from the school’s GSA club should I invite to take their places?And that’s what I’m not cool with. It has nothing to due with, “Oh she’s picking some else over me!” or “That’s so unfair.” No no and, NO. That’s not it at all. It’t that she’s being so inconsiderate to her friends that she’s not inviting. By talking, and bragging about how great and excited she is for it with friends she didn’t invite. Is it just me or does that strike any of you as rude or a little…immature?

Well I’m not going to call her out on that. It’s silly to provoke a problem when there was hardly one. But that made me realize, just how immature some of my friends are. They don’t stop to consider what their saying or doing might be kind of rude to other people. The more I realized this, the more I saw how I alone I was when it come to the maturity scale with my friends.

So many of them don’t seem to know what their doing with themselves. Struggling with identifying their selves. Hopping around with gender titles or orientations. One of my friends is always comparing about school, blaming most of her issues on other things. Most of those issues are her own fault though. She’s late to school or doesn’t even go because her mom forgot to wake her up. And when I carpool with her, she’s so rude to her mom. I literally want to strangle her for it. You should never tell your mother to flat out shut up. Doing things, saying they are having issues, whoring for attention. I thought I got away from that in the grade schools. Silly little arguments, fights, or problems in general that would amount to nothing. Nope, I did’t get away from it. It just evolved to sit in different topics.

As a middle schooler I never enjoyed these kind of squabbles. Heck, I did’t understand them. Most times I was kept out of the loop. So there would be very angry people in the class and I didn’t know why. But when the information finally circulated to me, I would mull over what I just heard and think “That is really stupid.” In sixth grade, one of my the girls of my class got into a big fight on a three day field trip. They were taking sides and there were kids running back informing each side. I did take a side because everyone else did, but after about two hours, I left and sat in a tree, then latter started playing a game with some of the boys.

Now that I think about it, it’s fine for middle schoolers to blow thing out of proportion. You’d expect that kind of behavior from them. But I didn’t expect to see the issues exposed with different behaviors with a bunch of people that are only two to three years away from bring adults. Immaturity.  Why am I the mature object in this big messy sea of immaturity?  They complain about stupid things, do stupid things. Why am I the only one that looks at them and thinks, “God, just stop.”

I found one common thing for all them. They don’t have someone else that they need to watch out for. I’ve got a older brother. He’e 19 and he’s got ASD, or more commonly known as autism. He pretty much like a six year old. I’ve always had to watch out for him. Make him food, help him calm down when something stressful happens at home. I helped me grow up faster.

Remember how I mentioned the friend I wanted to strangle for being rude to her mom? Some people may call her out for that. I don’t. There’s no point in causing a issue. Her mom, never tells her to stop, which quite frankly, surprises me. My mom would is on me like a wolf if I let my attitude sip with her. Both of them complain and cray over all kinds of thing. I internally cry realizing I’m more mature then a woman in her 30’s. But what can you do? Some people will have issues and never say it’s their fault, never say that their self-conscious about themselves, never say that their wrong. Heck, they probably don’t even realizes it. It makes me sad. But when can you do but push on and just deal with what your given, in a mature fashion.   Maturity-quote

The base to stories in 3 steps

There was a time I would just sit and stare at a note book, pencil or pen. Hours would go by and I would have completed five words. Five whole words. Once a pond a time... I was doing something wrong. But I had all these great ideas running around my head but. I just didn’t know how to get it out! So spent some long years cultivating my skills as a writer. Until one day people started giving me many complements for a story I wrote for school in 8th grade. All my class mates were like “Wow, where the heck did you pull that from?”, “It’s like you wrote a mini novel.” Heck my teacher liked it so much that to took it home and read it to her full grown son and his girl friend! A year later, I wrote another story for school and this time one of my class mates told me my story should be a movie. Why thank you Lars! And I though you did’t like me. Eventually I summited it to a writing contest and was picked as one of the 30 winners out of hundreds. So I guess I was doing something right. Okay, so last week I posted up a story I wrote, Fort 64. Hoped you liked it. At any rate, the reason way I blogged it was to get you all to fav it use it as an example. When you want to make a story, there are many ways that people advise you to make one. But in my opinion, they can get just plane confusing. So I’m going to try and tell you the three simpler steps that I use to write stories. Who knows? It might actually help.

Step #1 | Settings  

Screen Shot 2015-03-17 at 5.55.44 PM

You may not ignore these two for they are the bread of the story sandwich

In oder for your world to seem alive and real to a reader, it’s important to tell them where everything is going down. In my story, Fort 64, the story is set in a post- apocalyptic era, in the city of LA. Depending on the things you pick for time and place, determine what you can make possible in your world. Star Wars for example. Distant future with interstellar wars throughout the galaxy. Things like space fighters and light sabers make sense in that kind of setting. But A light saber wouldn’t make much sense in the Victorian era. But you could make an air ship possible if it were Steampunk Victorian era! Go steam power!

If you don’t want to spit out a time or place specifically, then hint at it. Show the reader with details of the surrounding, with the slang the people might use, so one so forth. Be creative, think of stuff.

Step #2 | Characters

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Obviously your story needs them characters to tell or act out the world you have so skillfully created for them. I personally, when I’m creating characters, I think it’s best to determine a few key points to start with. Take Raven from Fort 64. I started out with her simply being the medic that was a bit disorganized. From there, considering her time and setting in the story, I worked out the finer points of her character. Loyal, caring for her friends, slightly derpy. The other characters developed in the same way. Finn and Brick started off as just space fillers kinda. I just saw I need more people for the story. But they turned into Finn the funny, slightly smart ass guy that may or may not have had a thing for Raven, while Brick became the big bad wall of badass.

If you’re going into novel sized stories, you may want to start thinking of personal backgrounds on your characters. Things that happen in people’s past can really effect and explain why and how they act in the present. Why the bad guy is the bad guy, why the hero does what he’s doing. This happens in real life, so it should also apply to the fictional world as well. A well rounded character should never brake character and do something OOC. They should always sound like how you created them to be by what they say or do, not you stating what they are.

Step #3 | Situation 



You know something brilliant or terrible is about to happen when John Crichton from FarScape starts acting like a lunatic. What’s going on to make this madness happen? Let me tell you. There was an evil alien making everyone loss their minds slightly with some weird light he’s making on board their spaceship. That’s the situation. Alien is doing bad stuff to my ship. I need to stop the alien from doing the bad stuff to my ship so I’m going to go stop him. You need that back bone for your story to work.

What is today’s problem and how am I going to fix it? Take the Hunger Games for instance. Main characters sister is selected for the deadly game. To fix this, main character takes sisters place to save her. From there it’s a fight for survival. Entire book summed up in a nutshell. Same thing for my own story. They need medicine. A group goes out to find some. And they have to make to back home. Whole issue of the story right there. After you get the back bone in place, you can start playing with the fun little details, all the in between stuff. But I wanna make the details firs—No, no, and in case you didn’t read it the first time, NO! Details are the in-between events that happen around the real one. They’re just there to give the story flavor, but like food, your food don’t need to be favorable to keep you alive. First you must pick a plot that will keep your readers alive, then you can add all the extra spices that make it taste yummy!

Without these things, your story is a house built of cards. If I blow on it, it breaks. You need a strong base to keep every thing stable. A well made time and place, believable characters, and situation that takes your readers on an adventure. Then you will have a house of solid story stone.

Have a fabtabulous day.

Story Time: Fort 64


Today I’m going to enlighten you with this lovely story I wrote back in the 8th grade. It’s a short science fiction.  Crazily enough, this was a school assignment.  Next week I will go into detail as to why I decided to post this. Until than, enjoy the story. (>^_^)>

I’m startled from sleep by the blaring of a siren. I sit-up quickly, thinking that we might be under attack. I end up smacking my head on the bottom of the bunk above me.

“Nice one”, says a voice off to my right. I look over in that direction, and whom do I see? Finn Hex, with his dirty blond hair and electric blue eyes, is smiling down at me with that cocky grin of his. “Raven,” he says to me. “I think that you now can be called the champion of hitting your head against inanimate objects. This is the fourth time this week.”

“Real funny,” I reply, scowling at him. The action only makes his grin bigger.

Remembering the siren I ask. “What’s up with the siren, is there something wrong?”

“No,” he replies. “The only thing wrong is that you’re going to be late for the Run, AGAIN! That siren you just heard was the assembly alarm for today’s teams. Remember?” My only response to this is a blank stare. “I came to get you that’s why I’m here,” he prompts slowly. I look at him stupidly for a few more seconds. Then my still half asleep brain makes sense of his words.

“Damn it!” I mutter to myself as I jump out of bed. “Okay. Give me five minutes to get ready,” I tell him. “In the mean time, can you get out!” He shrugs and leaves the room smiling. I make a beeline for my very small restroom to freshen up. I splash cold water onto my face to make myself more alert. I dry my face with an old dingy towel. After that I study myself in the mirror. The reflection who stares back at me has dark brown skin, curly black hair, cut close to her head with bangs that come down to the shoulders, dyed red, and a pair of crystal blue eyes. This is me, Raven Shohona. I’m twenty-six years old and I live in Fort 64.


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