It's curious how events go about showcasing that the object of such desire has turned into - no, has always been nothing but a corrupt form of that which you've always longed for. Something which has gone so basically sour that it seems beyond all possible attempts of salvage.

So what will the world of tomorrow bring? Remembrance and regret, of all lost to a floundering and sweaty grip?

It's amusing, I find, how people believe I play them. I do not. I never have. I think that's true.

Veiled faces staring,
a man quickly learning the steps
of the hangman's jig,
as he hangs by the grace of God
and Pride

Gi meg en hånd å holde i
Gi meg en seng å sove i
Gi meg vinger og jeg flyr avsted

Når klasserommet blir et fengsel... Boka og Annet

En tom side stirrer på meg fra bordets hvile. Et stygt blikk. "Fyll meg!" sier boka. "Fyll meg med dine tanker, idder og mål. Jeg vil svelge dem, akseptere dem. Akseptere deg. Alt som utgjør hva du er. Alt de andre ikke vil ha, det de skyer fra. Alt det velkommer jeg med åpne armer. For jeg er din Gud, og din Herre. Men du er ikke min profet, for jeg er din."

Dette er faren.

For atleter og rockestjerner. Hva er du? Hvem er du? Ingen? Du er vel ingenting du, hvis du ikke går i vår bås. Er du ikke vår er du ingens. Ingenting er du.

Velg en frase, velg ditt liv. Velg nå, nå, nå, nå! Velg med en gang. For verden avhenger på deg. Alt hviler på deg og dine. Ditt valg. Men alltid galt.

Margen beveger seg sakte bortover og nedover. Mot bredden og kanten. Det er ikke noe håp for deg. Aldri vil dette gå deg bra, og bare din ende vil du møte. Din framtid går som margen.

Lærer bedre selv, jeg. I mitt eget tempo, vettu. Ja, mitt eget tempo går jeg i. Lurer på om han ser, eller om hun bryr seg. Håper på det siste og lurer på hvorfor jeg lurer å det første.

Sidens ende nærmer seg og slik gjør også min. Min ende er din og vi faller vekk i tomrommet. En guldfisk. Fortapt.

Jeg lurer på dette arret på min hånd. Jeg lurer på hvilken historie det skjuler- prøvde de kanskje å drepe meg?

I have a friend. His name is Oliver.

All he wants to do with his life is to end it.

This document is available HERE
NOTE: if you are in Internet Explorer, it is recommended to right Click the link -> Save As ... and then download it to a location of your preference.
Opening it in a browser window can be a hassle on some machines.
Adobe Acrobat Reader can be downloaded for free here: Adobe Acrobat Reader Download

This is my current prologue for the project I am working on, Quantum God. Its purpose and direction is still largely undefined from a major plot point of view, but I am simply developing and creating a base character with these first chapters.

I do intend to take it along the path of a more adventurous science-fiction. The latter being more on the backburner in favour of the former. Think Indiana Jones. Think Douglas Adams. And here I am trying to associate myself with Adams - what a great way to start indeed!).

I want a novel that is primarily just fun to read. I do plan to involve some interesting character development, however, and this is why I have decided to start the novel at the beginning of our hero's life, as opposed to coming in on an already established character.

It is written in very subjective first person view. It is a recollection of early events - I must admit I have taken some liberties with memory at some points to diversify the narrative a bit. Please do tell if these are too far-fetched.

It is nine pages, so I've made it a PDF document and uploaded it. Link can be found at the beginning of this post along with instructions - Pardon any inconvenience the file type might create.

I could go on for hours, probably, making excuses as to why there are errors and unsatisfactory elements. But the truth is that there is no excuse for poor writing, only improvement.
So I shall let it stand on its own legs and fret over here in the corner.

However, one excuse shall be presented: I am aware that there is a lack of descriptive prose and such in this chapter. I decided to omit most of the adjective flourishes for this prologue and instead focus on the character's fate for now. The City of Home, and the remainder of the planet should be presented in an appropriate flowery description in due time. Also, as you might discover, I have an affinity for long and clumsy sentences. I have gone a-hunting for these, but I know I have missed at least one comma-orgy.

Once you've finished reading, I want you to give me a run-down:

• Did you find this style suitable for the scenes and characters?


• Was it consistent?


• What changes do you feel would improve its flow and narrative quality?


• What sort of impression did the various characters give you?


• Which parts did you enjoy. What did you find amusing, et cetera.


• And of course, which did you not care for


• And most importantly, as an opening chapter, did it serve its purpose? Do you want to read on?

All constructive criticism welcomed.

Here's something I wrote a few years (two, I reckon) ago as a school essay - just reread it, figured I'd post it for kicks.

It focuses on the initially peaceful demonstration that turned into more of a slaughter than anything in South-Africa; and was the spark that lit off the Soweto rebellion.

( Soweto )

Let the Gallows take,
From the branches sway,
Drasil takes

In the shade of Ygg,
Die,
On the branches of the world
Face its light yet again.

Lift away,
The Allfather's path, walk,
On the wings of Munin, soar;
On the wings of Hugin, know,

Yggdrasil shines,
So brilliant, and white

The hour has come,
Live in darkness no more,
Drink of Mime's Well
Let the dew of the Tree, cleanse the mind
Of false thought and belief, let it be rid!

On the raven's wing soar,
Until the world fills the eye
And the mind

( Norwegian edition )