This is Photo Writing

The Roar of the Flames
Metal shrieking as it bent
Screams from the wounded
Orders barked out from officers of the rescuers
Smoke concealing everything

Confusion abounds as sailors scream for help
Panic as the water rises
desperate attempts at rescue
Crippling our Navy

A Cheap shot
An unexpected attack
Revenge will come
A stroke of Luck 
Saved our Carriers
With them the lost will be Avenged
Prepare for The Giant
The Sleeping Giant has been Awoken.
 

Photo of the Millenium

A picture of bravery, a selfless act,  a defiant act. He stood against impossible odds, against a force that could have killed him. He risked his life to stand, to stand against oppression. The tank man, who feared not tanks but what would happen if he didn't stand. He was an example of the true courage of a man fighting for something that he believed in. If we could only have more people with the courage to do actions like this. Oppression would be stamped out. What could stand against millions of people with the courage to stand and to simply say no. No I will not stand for this, no we will not do that, no you will treat them well. All its takes is one to inspire to lead to change. This man was a symbol, a symbol that all good people should seek to emulate in out everyday lives. If this man can stand up to tanks with little more than the clothes on his back and a grocery bag, what is stopping you from standing up for yourself against your problems. It's a simple action to stand, but it is difficult to do. To be willing to risk it all, just for what you believe in is something that not very many people are willing to do, when it's so easy to compromise and keep it all. A quote comes to mind "The whole world will tell you to move, your job is too plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth and tell the whole world no you move." That quote comes from Captain America, and I think it fits this situation perfectly. One man decided that day that he was going to tell the world to move.

Final Blog Post

1. I did the Harris Burdick story which was my first attempt at any kind of horror writing, and I thought it went well. I wrote the object story about a hunter trying to change the world but he failed. I wrote the color story which really helped me with my descriptions and how detailed they could get. I wrote the children's book and I was really concerned that it wouldn't be very good, but I was pleasantly surprised in how well it came out.
2. One that sticks out is Carson's story about his grandfather who was a mail man, the way it was written it made me feel that I almost knew who he was writing about. Then Isaiah's Harris Burdick stories had really interesting and funny ideas that I would love to read more about. 
3. Setting up the blog was a new experience for me, I was a little bit concerned at first that I wasn't going to have the technical know how, but as I started to explore it I realized how easy it was to use. I got the name for my blog because I think, it describes a goal for my writing I want it to be thunderous, I want it to shake people up and when they get done reading I want it to echo within them, I want it to be something that they think about for a while. I don't know if I'm going to keep using it, but if I did I would probably put more of the sci-fi fantasy stuff that I really like to write on it. 
4. The things that are in my journal are ideas I want to come back to later, my thoughts on certain subjects, self reflections. and short stories that I've written to relieve my frustrations, I would only want people that I fully trust to read my journal and understand what I'm trying to say. I will definitely continue to journal just because of the value of being able to keep good ideas I think of, and it's a great stress reliever for me. 
5. Stubborn, Arrogant, hates being told he can't do something. Always wearing his armor, never running. Brutally honest, excepts no coddling, can be cold and not tolerate of things he see's as weakness. 
6. 
   
1. The violent summer thunderstorm, but only when I lose my temper, I am the cold winter night hiding the warm cozy cabin within.                                                                              
2. The Hunter  brushed past a large oak tree. He suddenly stopped bent down and stared intently at the ground as if he was reading a book. He slowly stood, apparently satisfied with what he saw, he then took a deep breath and continued on to his hunt.  He knew that his prey was close, He knew not how his prey continued to elude him. This was no mere buck, this was the Spirit of the Forest. He hunted not out of necessity but out of challenge. Change was coming and he was it's harbinger.He was exhausted of the endless cycle, never changing always chained to the past and traditions: the old way, no innovation, and seemingly no better way. He was determined he was going to change things, he would spark a cataclysmic shift that would see him remembered by the tribes forever. They would speak of his actions for endless generations.He continued to move and track, staying vigilant and always moving, until finally he came upon a clearing and found the Spirit waiting for him, in the guise of the mighty buck. The Hunter approached head held high, bow strung and ready. “Why have you hunted me O’ Hunter of the tribes.” the Spirit asked. “I seek change.” The Hunter replied.“I see.” The Spirit continued “Take my life and realize your folly.”The Spirit stood proudly as the Hunter drew back his bow. His hands trembled as he drew the bow back. As he exhaled he released, the arrow flow straight and true into the buck's massive chest. The Spirit fell to the ground with out a sound. The hunter stood frozen in disbelief unable to grasp what he had done. He whipped around as he heard a deep rumbling laugh. It was coming from a mountainous bear. "I told you mortal." the bear said. I am the forest I have been here for a thousand eons, and I'll be here for a thousand more." the bear continued "Realize the futility of your pitiful attempt at change, nature changes for no man." He now understood his folly. He had not broken the endless cycle, the ever turning wheel of time, he had simply continued its turn. He had failed. He wept bitterly. He had failed change would not be coming to anything. He had only helped that which he hated. He knew not what he would do. When he finally was resigned to live in the old ways, the only way he thought bitterly. He began the journey to his home.  The Hunter stumbled into the camp of his tribe, the Elders looked upon him with a knowing gaze. He looked back with a despair that broke the hearts of all who looked upon him. He now understood their condemnations of his actions, he knew why they had called out to him telling him that this hunt was foolish. He finally spoke “Why must we live like this?”They replied with one bitter voice “Would you show us a better way?” 
7.  I eventually want to write my own book, and I think I'll continue to write short stories, maybe I'll even submit a few into competitions I don't know. Writing creatively helps me process my frustrations and emotions and it lets me express myself in a manner I find pleasing and interesting. It's different from other writing because it's entirely dependent on me I write what I want to write, and it doesn't matter what anyone else says about it because it's mine.
8. It's been a lot of fun, being able to write and share with everyone, I know I've gotten to be a better writer. I'm really excited to see what cool stuff you guys do in the future.  Good Luck.

Inspiring Post

 A picture of brokenness, a fallen majesty, a mighty mountain brought low by the power of the water. Carved by the constant pressure of the water. You fought to keep your shape, to never surrender to the unceasing flow. Even as pieces of you were lost you still stand here. Broken and crippled, but you stand you resisted, and as the ground around you was torn asunder you stood. Never backing down you stood. The rage of the water was tangible in it's furious assault. You stood passionless, a cold mighty defender. The picture of stubbornness, You waited, because you new that it could not last forever, if you stood long enough you could hold forever. So that's what you did you stood because you could do no other. Every so slowly you could feel the wave and power of the water begin to weaken, the ground below it could not support it's assault. It began to sink into the channels formed by the pressure it put on the weaker ground. As it fell it's attacks grew desperate, even as they grew futile. Your victory was almost here. You knew the battle was won. After the struggle of eon you had emerged victorious, beaten and battered, yes, but hardly defeated. They water cursed the weakness of the ground below ti and promised a revenge. You took this with the stoicism that you took everything else, you cared not you were a mountain your purpose was to endure and nothing would change that.

You stood
Under massive pressure
You endured
Under constant Assault
You waited
Broken and battered
You Won
Cursed and Despised
You Stood
Still You stand