Welcome everyone! Tonight's show will be a very special one! It comes in three acts and you will travel in this bizarre canoe that we all call life, and so we begin.

FIRST ACT
They enter the stage in their clasy costums and bright capes, all going to the center to begin with it all. There are five that are shiny as the ambar, and are the main characters of this humble show. The psychic arrives with her gypsy cloths and soothing masks, followed by the silent dragon, the lying tiger and the deaf penguin.

Lights go off, just one dim blue light to make focus into our little group of accomplished actors, and she takes of her mask and starts yelling, the others just stay there and the gypsy keeps yelling and yelling. The silent dragon listens, because she's speaking a lot, but saying nothing, just yelling, and so he just listens. The lying tiger waits for the right moment and sits still, while the deaf penguin is clueless about what is happening, for he can't hear the screams.

The act goes on and the tiger finds the right spot and begins to speak, the words don't silence the gypsy and her yellings, they just make it more aggresive and fierce. But that's precisely what the tiger wants, for she knows once they've reached the highest point, they can't get worse.

And the dragon keeps listening, does not say a single word, he just listens, he doesn't observe, for he has seen this too many times and felt the same show over and over again, the excitement has gone along with the joy. So he just stands there, knowing what's about to happen every second, but never knowing exactly why.

And the penguin is there, not knowing what's happening, he can't try to escape, he can't try to silent the gypsy, because he can't listen. So he just observes, he looks at the other actors, their purposes, their motives and their actions, he observes their every breath, and he keeps observing, which is not only seeing, but feeling as well. And feels lonely.

SECOND ACT

The gypsy has now yelled a lot and continues, the others get used to it, the dragon keeps listening, and just nods every few screams of desperation, the tiger keeps lying to make all the ghosts go away, perhaps her mask is the most elaborated one. All but the penguin. He keeps observing, observing and worrying, worrying and feeling. And he tries to understand, and he tries to listen, but he can't he tries to sympathize, but they all know it will take him years to try. So the show goes on as in the previous act, but it begins to change.

The gypsy wants to yell no more, she wants to cry instead, her anger is not real, is just condensed sorrow through a papaer cup. And so she keeps yellingyet wanting to cry, because she knows they just won't get it, they never do. So once she is tired the puts the shiny mask again and the show goes on. There are bearded women, flying christs and a real water! And it all is merry.

The penguin is lost, first there was a loud silence of disrruption, and now it was a silent of happinness. And it all was fine, except for the fact that this show must go on, and repeat itself, for it's not a once in a lifetime rehersal, it's a lifetime show.

THIRD ACT
And after a few scenes of obscure poetry recitals, cognizant dialogues, and french babbling; the whole cast made a parade for the living and the dead, for the beautiful and bizarre, for teh balance and the chaos. It was a whole and an empty.

Newcomers appear on stage and so the gypsy shows an ultramarine velvet mask, the dragon displays his best scales and the tiger lies in a way that is not belivable yet is charming. The penguin is just the peguin, observing.

But because of his experience the penguin avoids just to listen, avoids lying so synically and above all, hates yelling. But he can't help himself, for they are his crew, the cast of tonight's show, so he lives.

ENDfortoday

And so our climax-less story sets still here, but it will repeat itself as much times as necesary. And you could think it is a play, that it is in fact a theater, but it's not. It is a circus, for playwriting never include dogs riding monocycles

[smashed up]
by I'm the penguin

“It’s not that difficult… wait…. No, hold on IT IS kinda difficult after all.”
“I told you.”
“You did.”
“Shut up.”
“Don’t accuse me of me of being melodramatic.”
“I didn’t”
“You did”
“I’m leaving.”
“Don’t leave.”
“If you'll excuse me, I have a beam of light to catch”
“Yeah sure, I would say you're in need of a thorazine drip.”
“I can’t fail, this is all I am.”
“Open your head. WIDE OPEN!”
“No.”

[ Mrs. K i t e ]
they took control...

Hi,

There's so few things I can say, I love you could be one of them, and I would like to say them out loud when I see you, but that's just not me. And perhaps you think it is too soon to say those big words, maybe you consider is nonsense that I write this in this circumstances. But even if I don't know your name, or I'm clueless about your age, I love you. And perhaps you will never appreciate me that way, maybe you won't even exist ever, or you will just never cross my path, but know this for sure, I like you more than words can express.

And I don't just love you because you're incredibly irresistible, or because deep down(really deep down) you know I'm a helpless romantic, not only because every morning I wake up with the thought of you, because either if I'm mad at you or I can't wait to see you. It is greater than all of that, I love you because you exist, and perhaps I won't feel the same way about you all the time, but looking trough, I love you because you're there, even if I meet you until the last of my days, you were always there and for that I owe you big.

Maybe you don't understand the purpose of this, maybe you freak out and leave, but I had to give it to you, you had to know. Know this, know me, know that I always knew about you somehow, or at least hoped for you. And to be honest I don't know what I expect from this, other from you to know, know this side of what you think you know about me.



[meet the other masks, you deserve that at the very least]
By I'm the penguin

a short sort of phrase, find it. It rhymes.

Bite with the bright fight. Flight of height by a knight. It might be night but it’s quite right. White write night.
k _ _ _

Bows of doze goes to the nose. Get a rose in the toes.
k _ _ _ _

Cow, of now wow!
_ _ _

Due to the blue flu, that’s a clue.
_ _

Beach to teach the speech of preach
r _ _ _ _

A fit of bit of hit and lit.
_ _

[ Mrs. K i t e ]

I bet you haven't.

Or have you?

Nah, I don't think so, you're not the kind of person who does that kind of thing. But then again, no one looks like they're the kind of person who does that. Well I had a cousin from my mom's side, you'd believe he had tea with the queen and smashed a guitar with some death metal band the same day, sadly he overdosed too young, no one should go when they're 15, is too young to be fashionable.

But you see, the thing here is not really the precepts or the background behind the person that tells you if they'd do it or not. Heck, is not even about moral in a certain way, it is about having balls.

And believe me I'm not saying this in a do-this-or-no-person-will-respect-you kind of what a bully would say thing, I mean it more in a don't-dare-even-thinking-of-doing-it-unless-you're-ready-to-die, not because people that do it die, but more because people that do it want to die later on.

But don't be scared, nobody will force into doing it, some people live their lives without even knowing about it, and it's funny, how much people take into it their whole life and meaning, and others don't have a clue of it, I think they're meant to happiness, the ignorant ones I mean. Because with my years you get to know that what really makes happinness is knowing less of whatever there is to know more, even if that makes you unhappy.

But the whole thing is not just something you do once, it catches you, with the same passion it strains and constricts you, it involves you and consumes every single second there is of your insignificant life. And with the same force it saps you, it drowzes you into the deepest depth of yourself. And there, right there, when and where you realize you are there, in 3D, every cell and mitochondria and DNA and protein and atom and quark of your body, when you know you're there, then there is no turning back.



[seems the fields have been lacking of commenting, the one it usually haves.
the one involving a flying object that can't walk and a walking bird that can't fly]
By I'm the penguin

Today I was thinking about time.
How tricky it is, how it slides through our hands.
Today I wanted to be a pilot, I wanted to be an artist, I wanted to be a queen, I wanted to be a critic, I wanted to sleep.
But all I could do was being me, all day long. Thinking of school and other banalities which turn out to be incredibly important.
And I dream, I had time for that. Actually I often think I waste my whole life in my mind.
And I saw bones.



[Mrs. K i t e ]
[is it a lion flying a kite, or a kite that makes a lion fly? Maybe we’ll never know…]

I wish you did, but you don't know the person behind the penguin's mask, you just know what lies in the crystal-cut layer, and I wish I could tell you his story, and I bet he wishes that too, but I have no right, you see, I'm just a mask. And it is not that it is a horrendous story of treachery and despair the one of his, it's just a story with the right amount of sorrow and suffering to produce a person with a right level of flaws and wounds to be functional. But his story is that which will remain untold, because it is the story of the mask making, the craft work of generation, ancient traditions of that which the little boy only new, masks.

And that is the reason why he can't tell hi story, the same reason he has to come up with explanations, stories and faces. Because in all his life the only way he has known of surviving are masks, customs, mimetization. And it could be called hiding, but in the clan of the Greywolf, none is raised to be a coward. And it could be called deciving, which would be more accurate, but it's purpose is not that of fooling others, it's just not to terrify with what's between that thin layer of reality and fiction. Because when you deal with the penguin, you can't separate facts from fiction, for sometimes they're the same.



[Is it a wolf with a penguin's mask or
a penguin with a wolf's mask?]
By I'm the penguin

Well... yeah, you couldn't say this is a secret... since... well
it ain't a secret right?

[ Mrs. K i t e ]

They are heard everywhere, they break from the hills and mountains and until here those noisy pieces arrive, pieces of a broken sky. Fragmented and falling pieces, just like diving birds into an ocean of nothingness, coarse and without any direction. Loosing all elegance and grace, the sky keeps falling, not even producing enough number of pieces to be metaphorical or poetic, they only fall 284 big chunks of sky, irregular and impartial, simple and dismal fragments of what they used to be. The sky is falling slowly, some parts are still up, but there's no point anymore, the blue-sky color lost its name today.

At the sight of those shreds of ethereal matter, one can realize what they truly are, dreams. One can peep out the pieces in the floor and tune into a dream, from who or when? who knows, but someone not so far from there, not so long a go dreamed with swimming in a soup pool. And so there they were, cracked and shattered, the sad and abandoned dreams, every unfulfilled wish, every toy car that wasn't given to Jimmy on Christmas, every prospect of a boyfriend Lucy never had, and the millions of dreams with hopes of winning the lotto, all there, tumbledown.

And while more nosy people got near the show, more dreams were seen, the peeping remained there more as a hobbie than an interest, the curious commented how on Earth could that had happened? When had people started dreaming with appearing in a shampoo advertisement?! People wondered if the rest of the sky would fall, they questioned themselves how many more dreams would be broken.


[200 complete portrayed dreams, each as useless as the former one]
By I'm the penguin

I get high like submarines and fly like walruses
If you sing me a new song, I can get it to record,
If you stop around here, I sing'em all day.
I'll follow you a lifetime if you say.

I sink like submarines and get carried as a walrus,
If you tell me what to say, I can send you to the depth,
If I still follow you, I will write all day,
I'll stop screaming, whenever you say.

Sometimes I feel I'm flying overseas
Every ocean I get to, I'm loosing it again.
Everyone's a kite, the penguin is insane,
We're already making us names.

Sometimes I feel I'm flying overseas
Every ocean I get to, I'm loosing it again.
Everyone's a kite, the penguin is insane,
We're already making us names.

And all I want to do is...
goo goo g'joob
and a...
wut? huh?
and take you in my head

And all I want to do is...
goo goo g'joob
and a...
wut? huh?
and take you in my head

[ Mrs. K i t e ]

"I don't" He said, while waving his head in a boastful way

"Yes! you do!" she said while looking sardonically

"You're just whining as always" he said, rolling his eyes in that arrogant way of his

"Oh, c'ommon YOU can't say anything about whining, and don't change the subject, admit you are always telling people what to do" she said, trying to convince him into a discussion that was lost form the very start

"I don't, I just advice people, and by the way I don't whine, I just question things. And if you are not clever enough to tell the difference, then that's your problem" He said, continuing with that fake pride that characterized him so much.

"No, no you don't, you're always complaining about everything, and again, don't change the subject. You a fascist authoritarian who's not willing to accept it" she said, starting to use the big words

"Well, I do tell people what to do sometimes, but it is either because they're doing it wrong or are too stupid to tell what they're doing" he said, with his judging eyes.

"Let me remind you you haven't always done the bestEST decisions mister" she said, giving that sight of say-one-more-word-and-I-bring-THAT-up.

"Well, excuse me for being human" he said, embarrassed, yet trying to hold that not-so-glamorous look of pride.

"Just admit it" she said, half proud of winning the argument, half tired of having to have it for the ninth time that week

"Ok, I am a little controlling at times, but it is only because people don't do things right, and that's my OCD trying to make everything better, sorry I can't help it I was born that way, so are you done flaming my birth deficiencies?" He said, playing the dirty I-was-born-this-way card, knowing that it was not really an argument, but it could not be discussed.

"Urg..." she ended, knowing the argument would end up something like that, him twisting everything, them changing subject.



[I get high like submarines and fly like walruses]
By I'm the penguin

This post is crap.

I really believe the phrase 'The miracle of life' is exreamly overused. Still is the most wise and magnificent thing ever.
The science of life. It's to much to describe, is the reason that keeps me... well... alive.
Even if we can't really explain what life is. Or if it even is. It happens, it is.
But at the same time, those conforming life. Atoms, molecules, etc. They don't even know they are. We get carried on in our own existance, ignoring the smallest parts. While I write every two days in here, I'm not concient of the electrons flowing out of my screen... Or am I?

From a social point of view, life can be beautiful, or sometimes it can be awful and full of cruelty.

But from a science point of view, it can be nothing but magnific, beautiful...

At least enough to feed mankind's curiosity for all this years.

So it may be crap, 'cause there's never space enough to describe it. But trying is worth it.

[ Mrs. K i t e ]
["stop telling me what to do" write a short story-dialogue, feat. that. ]

It is time, time to do it, time to stand up and go all for it. Why would we wait when we don't have weapons? Why to procrastinate when we have nothing to loose? Why to let this static instance be lost when we are like this, hopeless and faithless. It is the right moment to rise, to emerge from the fog constituted by our self destructiveness, it is the precise time to build ideas, for all that's left is wasteland. It is time.

To rise and yell, to stand up and fight, for we have nothing to loose, we have no sword to fight with, no shield to survive, and no hopes of winning. It is in times like these where nations are built, where empires emerge from the past reign. But today our friends, we don't fight for justice to the hopeless, or aid to the helpless, today we fight because we have nothing, and nothing will we leave.


By I'm the penguin
[create crap of great magnificence]

If I were a wish. I…
No wait…
Its not that easy, since the answer is definitely not what you wish.
So, I think I would be something like, “I wish I could feel.”
This sounds weird coming from me, in a certain way it does, in a certain way it doesn’t.
So, now, let me explain.
You’re always saying I’m not observant… and in a way you’re right. But I’ve said a couple of times that observing is not only eyes/ears/etc --> thoughts.
There are some kind of things that are not “thought” (maybe they are, but not in the classical meaning of thinking)
I consider myself sensible towards things I can only feel, in a different way, my memories, I think, are very different from the rest of the people.
I’m not sure of calling it names, or describing it. But it is something that I can relate to lots of aspects in my life. And the reason perhaps why I don’t remember facts that I can tell, or explain.

But I’m sure you had noticed that.
So, at least, if you didn’t, know you can’t blame me from having a different process that you…

[ Mrs. K i t e ]

Why would we wait when we don’t have weapons.
[yeah, W’s sound cool… .. lolz… maybe it maweks no swence.. but write about that past line]

1. Thinking the only way to start over was definitely beginning from zero.
2. Believing things could happen, even thought I knew they didn't.
3. Sitting in a bus for 3 hours, seeing at the exact same spot.
4. Realizing friends can actually be useful.
5. Realizing friends are not tools.
6. Knowing I'm not real.
7. Thinking I exist.
8. Trying to feel.
9. Notice stuff.
10. Retreat stuff.
11. Finding the owls.
12. Founding the fields.
13. Thoughts of revolution.
14. Deep feelings of independence.
15. Thinking of it all, but then again nothing concrete.
16. Realizing stuff building up in the mind could backfire and explode.
17. The day Burger King hosted not only escaped children, but mothers too.
18. Having to listen to everyone's opinion about the stuff and not be able to do anything.
19. Finding the house of nerds, owls, walruses, and kites... just to see it crumble down later.


By I'm the penguin
[If we were a wish, which wish would we be? why?... change does WEs for YOUs...(it just sounded better with all the Ws)]

I feel just a little weird.
Not the fact of being weird; I’m so used to it.
But the fact of accepting I’m doing this feels weird.
I believe a part of me is trying to be a common girl.
Who likes pink.
That part troubles me, a lot.
It would be easier. I talk like a normal person sometimes.
I try to talk about things people would talk about.
Sometimes I feel embarrassed of not knowing about artists and trends.
I do not know how to talk to him about what he likes.
I feel I should be different, I should fit.
I want to.

But damn it, how I hate that feeling.

I’m so tired of talking to myself about things I care and talking to everyone else (him) about the gossip of the last boyfriend of a god knows who, who supposedly sings.

I don’t want to pretend.
You think I’m a nerd.
I am.
I like being it.
But I’m scared.
Scared of scaring you, when I like you.

When you talk, I try to be there, but I can't.
I'm not there.
It's not me
And you are you.

I have to come to terms with this.
Who I am.

I’m sure; someday I won’t feel alone,
When I finally find what I want.
When will I know?

I don’t know.
But it will be a sign.
A sign of the beginning of something.

Something that tells me I’m not alone.

The fields are a sign.
The fields are a dream.
There are penguins, dogs, squirrels, walruses...

I knew it.
Actually I didn't but thank life there was more.

[ Mrs. K i t e ]
[i was scared of being alone]

[a list. of moments/events/time, when you realized something important for your life]

Antarctic masks


"Peter is a teenager who is often portrayed in ways far too different changing from person to person, even opposite personalities. Taking this to his advantage, he dedicates this skills to deceive and confuse others for his own amusement. But all this changes when he falls in love with his friend John, causing a great amount of disorientation in his identity and being. So he dives into an intense journey to find beauty, meaning and himself; going through unreal and perfect fantasies , decadent nightmares, traveling through time and space. All, to find his way into the answer :who is the person behind the mask of Peter Penguin?"

"Great script, weird soundtrack choice"The newyorker

"A must see of today's society reflections" Times magazine

"A dramatic comedy, a hilarious tragedy"The New York Times



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In case you wondered:

Opening Credits: All my loving- Beatles
Waking Up: Angel- Apocalyptica
First Day At School: Bittersweet symphony-The verve
Falling In Love: I’m the Walrus - The beatles
Fight Song: Why shouldn’t I have let you in-Tom milmson
Breaking Up: Black bird-The Beatles
Prom: Violet hill- cold play
Mental Breakdown: We made a film-Tom Milmson
Driving: Because-beatles
Flashback: Bohemian Raphsody
Wedding: MY friend John
Final Battle: Chelsea dagger
Death Scene: Why don’t we do it in the road?
Funeral Song: Read my mind
End Credit: All you need is love

[This is just one of the many lives I have, remember I'm just one of the many people behind the penguin's mask]
By I'm the penguin
[Let an outdated version of who/what you used to be narrate the beginning of THE fields]

There’s too many things I can say about secrets, and too few at the same time. That precisely is my first secret. I believe pretty obvious when you have a rather stalky penguin-friend by your side. But the first thing is that when I talk about something, I say a whole lot things about that something but I really hide a part of it, a part which never leaves me, and hard for me to reveal, unless, either you’re a playful dog, a penguin or quiet squirrel, but oh well, a secret, some secret I have.

Or had, or will have… (that’s for not being specific)
And now comes the time when you start feeling as in junior high’s bottle game again.
The truth is I always preferred the punishment.
I’m not big on telling secrets.
Sweat drips.
It will be short, some of them are really complicated to explain but, I promise I will find something quick.
I really hope this helps you fill the stalking wall…
Damn you…

The only not-complicated things I can think about are the custom secrets, like fear of not being loved, understood, solitude, which happen to everyone (I hope)
What else besides my special type of myrmecofobia, albuminurofobia, diabetofobia and metathesiofobia.
Did I say too much… maybe.

A secret

You know about the cliché of having a secret diary with lots of personal stuff, which you want no one to read?
That insane kind of protection towards your information?
Well, the Kite has something she protects with her life.
Is one of the many notebooks she has.

About……

The Kite a secret obsession of relating songs with people she knows, and with what she feels. Not in a healthy-natural way. But in a kind of creepy way of analyzing line by line and chord by chord.
She has a list.
Yes, that creepy.
Some are way easier than other, definitely.
But she might even have more than one for each person.
The interesting thing about this is that it says more about her actual feelings than anything else.
It's like the secret of secrets.
No restrictions at all.
Let's say is the Half-Blood Prince Playlist ( remember the context we use for that )

[ Mrs. K i t e ]
[ write your life-movie based on a "shuffle" game ]

huh? you will have questions...

answer this "shuffle game" , and then write a short summary of your movie as if it was the summary in the back of the dvd box.

Put your music on shuffle;
then write down the songs ((in order of appeareance))
no cheating, takes the fun out of it then!

Opening Credits:
Waking Up:
First Day At School:
Falling In Love:
Fight Song:
Breaking Up:
Prom:
Mental Breakdown:
Driving:
Flashback:
Wedding:
Final Battle:
Death Scene:
Funeral Song:
End Credit:

The field of physics and chemistry is a fascinating one, the explanation of how complex the light is and the simplicity of carbon becoming a diamond, but sometimes we feel that this knowledge is only reserved for those who study for years and dedicate their lives to it. But these same people that hold this knowledge want people like you and me to be able to reach this understanding, and how do they accomplish this? That's exactly why we have Peter Panwhen, to tell us all about it.

E.How are you Peter? We're glad you could give us this interview

P.P Sure Jessica, whatever gets the people to read some more about C and Au, and less about the las golden and diamond necklace Scarlett Johansen used for the academy awards.

E. Well, we'll let that judgement for the reader, and of course the PEOPLE magazine...So tell me, what exactly is that you do?

P.P It could be difficult to explain but to let things more simple, I'm a glorified advertiser. Here at the ISS (international science station) we do a lot of stuff that are of great importance for the whole world, but people never really know what's going on here, unless there is an explosion or something, which doesn't happen often. (he laughed) And what I do is to facilitate the most relevant information for the media in general, in part of a plan called "Truly universal science".

E.But don't you miss your work at the labs?

P.P Well, my job doesn't stop just at translating science geek into english, I still have to work at the lab and be on time every morning, I just have the special commission to deliver the information to the world

E. But you also design campaigns and plans to get to every school and town there is, I bet we all have seen at least one of your ads "bored? learn how to build an explosive volcanoe for the next science fair!"

P.P (he laughed)Well, what we want is to get o everyone you know? Because we have all this information that could ereally improve everyone's lifestyle, but people are just not interested, or even adraid they won't understand, so we want them to know it's not all rocket sience.

E.Well thanks a lot for this quick interview, we'll be waiting to see more from you

P.P thanks

And next we have a...



[sry, zikaos is pretty time consuming]
By I'm the penguin
[reveal to our lovely readers your secret]

It was late, again, and this time it wasn’t me, surprisingly. I was really worried, as I get when people get out of their regular habituations. I called and got no answer, ( I was the one who didn’t answer, right?) so, I waited, looking at the sky as I always did, looking at the stars.

It was cold, colder than back there, but it was ok. I liked it better, I was used to it, you hadn’t recovered from that cold that you said wasn’t a cold, and mumbled angrily always as “damn temperature changes” but I was wearing a coat and a scarf so I was ok with the “damn temperature changes”.

Clear starry skies mean two things, either it is night, or to early. This time, it was too early, we both hated traffic jams, and so the perfect solution was of course, leaving for a trip at 4:00 am. Duh!

Finally car lights came by my dorm zone, and you stopped. I got in. Your eyes where a little red and so was your nose. I asked if you were ok, and you just answered, “damn temperature changes.”

“Are you ready,” you asked.

“Actually and surprisingly I am.” You laughed discreetly and as you started the car again. Then in that sarcastic humorous tone which has always made me crack up you said,

“You better are, ‘cause I’m not stopping this car until we’re there.”

“Don’t worry.” I said and you smiled. “… I can jump, the windows are wide.” You looked at me seriously and placed the window locks.

We laughed deeply.

We were in our way.

“Wait, this isn’t fair by the way.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes.” I assured

“Do you remember any cats?”

“No. Which cats? Don’t tell me you’re superstitious about cats, not when you’re driving.”

You looked disapprovingly.

“Oh God, you’re always like this. THE CAT. Plus a known German name… Rings any bells?”

I gave you a I-had-got-it-before-,-thanks sight,

“It’s actually Austrian, and yes.”

“Then it is fair, and you owe me this.”

“But… It… because…”

“No buts, shut up.”

“OK”

We laughed deeply again.

“Now it is your turn, and you have to come.”

"You tell me it wasn't a big deal."

"Since when packing your things and going with no direction is a big deal"

"Since you see directions everywhere....

"Shut it... that's the beauty of it, I had never gone impormptu. Until perhaps now."

"Your imptomptumes better work ok."

"If it doesn't I can blame you." you laughed sarcasticaly

"Not."

"Totaly."

[ Mrs. K i t e ]

[ magazine interview, about you and your career, vast ]

"I didn't knew you were so into Sade..." you say as you look trough my stuff

"Well, isn't it a tad obvious honey?" I laugh, sharing that accomplice look we have at times "No, really, I just started reading it a while ago and bought some more" I said, going back to my work.

"I see" you say, putting "Trip to Italy" back on the shelf

"Isn't a little creepy you're looking trough my stuff with me in front of you?" I asked from the screen of the laptop

"You can't that's-creepy me, not after the way we met" you say, looking at the pictures

"Thanks for reminding me so..." I say, feeling a little embarrassed, and kinky, but mostly embarrassed.

"Oh! What's this!" you say, taking a photo album, one of those old ones which used to be in book form. You open it while I stand up running to get it from you

"Hey! that's personal!" I yell, while trying to take it from you, but of course you're faster and take it to the living room to check it out.

As I go to the living room, knowing perfectly that you have gone half way trough it I sit on the sofa and try to at least explain something

"So, is this your teenage album or something?" You ask, melting and laughing at my younger self.

"Yes it is" I say, trying to find answers for the upcoming questions, for I know you always have upcoming questions.

"Who's this girl? It sure appears a lot" You say, pointing at a 18-year old curled-hair girl smiling besides me 10 years ago

"She's Neena, Neena Kite" I said, remembering the exact moment that picture was taken, how much we laughed when we graduated

"So was she what? like your best friend or something?" You ask, looking at the over 20 pictures of her through the album

"Yes, something like that" I say, in that mysterious-wanna-be voice of mine which you notice at the second

"Don't go all I-don't-care-about-my-past on me pal, there's enough pictures here to fill a stalker board" You say, glaring me. "So what's her story?"

"What do you mean what's her story?" I ask innocently, false innocence.

"Peter, you have an story for people you don't even talk to, you live to observe, you must have something big here" You say, all interested. I guess our passion for stories and profiles and observing has made us stay together all this time.

"Well, we were together since junior high. We were really good friends, beyond that yearbook crap of "I'll remember you forever" and six months later you don't even recognize them in the street kind of friend, I mean the one that stays all night with a drunk you in her backyard while you puke and cry kind of friend. Besides an innate artist and a big dork, she was a genius." I say, leaving some kind of cliff hanger while I drink all the water in that large glass

"By the time we were seniors she had gone to the nationals of both chemistry and biology contests, had won a trip to Romania from some designing thing and so on. But despite all that, she had time for the common friend gatherings and common stuff, although there was nothing common about our high school, it was more like jail." I say, taking a pause to think what will I tell you next, seeing how you know that that is no the important part

"Now, I know how important you think knowing the date history is, so I'll mention that trough her years she beat that fear of Schrodinger's cat, at lest at a level where she was functional. Things kind of worked kind of didn't with some other child-prodigy in school, and I believe she never told me the whole story, you see there was this party that I didn't attended to, but she and him did, and well that and the fact there was a lot of booze was all I knew." I say taking another pause to remember what went on later

"Overall in the dating universe she was not a huge success, but she had her stories. There was this med student that went on for over a year or something, but again, nothing was very concrete, as it is always with her." I went on

"Oh, something important! You know how I had my mentor trough college, Mr. Warren, such a great teacher, person and scientist. If it weren't for him I wouldn't be here... Well, the point is that she had one of her own too, well many to be honest, she had this huge ability to make teachers in general love her. The point is that in senior year she had this doctor who taught her semester 1-5 of Med school before she made any applications. I believe it was a great amount of help, I mean, he even got her on a heart surgery on her first year of med school" I said, remembering how she went on for months talking about it, even thought she had done nothing.

"So, she's your doctor friend, that which sends you a card every Christmas?" You asked, trying to complete the story by yourself, unluckily for you, we're not speaking of the same person.

"Nope, but just explain me how you know I receive a card from a doctor every Christmas?" I asked, quiet intrigued, for we have known each other for less than a year

"You're not the only stalker in this room, love" you said, knowing how much I hate to be named like that

"Well, going on with her story. When she entered med school she knew possibly more than some teachers and was more prepared that most interns. But yet she worked her butt off, always keeping that hint of arrogance and loads of dorkishness that made her so her." I go on, then I laugh, remembering a quick story of hers. "I clearly remember the first time she told me she had to call time of death for her first patient, of course I wasn't there, but yet it was hilarious. The thing is that she didn't carry a watch that day for some reason, so she asked the time, and no one answered her, but the guy who she was calling the time, apparently he was still alive. When we met that day, she still had a terrified expression on her look" I say part talking, part laughing as I remember that day

"Ok, I'll cut to the chase, so far you've told her story and all, but what about now, did she died or something, how come in eight months I haven't met her?" you asked, more intrigued than interested

"Well, that's because we leave in Toronto honey, we don't have time to go visit her all the way to Boston every time we like" I say, kind of regretting having told you so

"So that's why you go to Boston every few weeks?! And here I was, believing you had a very bad heart condition and hoping you'd come with good news twice a month!" you say, more epyphanised than angry. I knew your anger couldn't last long with you feeling like knowing something new

"Hey, on my defense, she IS a heart surgeon" I say, trying to excuse myself for my sudden escapades.



By I'm the penguin
[a story featuring what you think is my "little-notsodirty-secret"]

I wouldn’t say it was a bad day, not amazing either. Still, ignoring the lack of interest and dullness one can have in days like this I thought about some interesting things. (Which was, what we would call the highlight of my day, the glass was half full in that sense) But even so, the fact of talking easy senseless decisions should be enough sometimes to justify your existence. You made part of the world’s history that day, by not being named in the news. I mean, if I hadn’t made one choice, history could’ve changed. What if I had changed the driving lane without looking the mirror, what if I had done something different and somehow discovered something life-changing, or universe-changing, what if I had shot everyone at school. I would be remembered by someone that day, but I decided, unconsciously maybe, not to. Changing history by not changing it. Maybe that’s it, and I’m sure the possibilities (in numbers, since everything’s numbers now, and people has just lost faith in destiny) may be microscopically ridiculous, but, I had it in my hands, for a second, I had it in my hands, and decided not to destroy it.

[ It’s interesting the use I finally give to stupid chit-chats with uninteresting people. Makes me feel I didn’t lost my time in the end of it ]

[ Mrs. K i t e ]
[ write your top 25 quick guesses, of what do I think/expect from my short/med-term future (0-5 years) ]

List of ten reasons why, by Brandon Wallace and the penguin

1.Because the Sun will hit your eyes with a brand new shine, and a brand new headache

2.Because you would never miss work, not even in deathly sickness. (You see, there are walruses, penguins and cats you would like to see every day)

3.Because despite you think you have lost hope, you think it is still possible. To actually see AD kick out the Pains.

4.Because you couldn't miss the taste of a morning, the coffee in the air and the stress in your guts.

5.Because otherwise, you wouldn't get your daily doses of joy, and GG, you know you love it, X=10x^2.

6.Because you need to find out what this day will teach you, you never know when it can be world domination!

7.Because you need be conscious for as much inhalations as you can, don't let those capitalist pigs get you O2.

8.Because life is perfect, so you have to do something about it.

9.Because you have another chance to make of this world a better place, reducing idiot emanations, reusing great ideas and recycling geniuses.

10.And because tomorrow can be the first day of the rest of your life, because with the crisis one never knows what will happen next.



By I'm the penguin
[write a diary entry from my perspective]

It’s sort of a recipe, more like a lab practice, I would say. The ingredients are not very hard to find, but the procedure is the tricky one.

• A common place

• Uncommon people you call friends
• A Good song
• A Good book
• A Good picture
• A forgetful memory
• Another person
• An object you love
• Surprise Element (to get this, close your eyes, introduce your hand into your brain and randomly take something)

1. Take the common place and peal all the sharp edges around it.
2. Sparkle uncommon people around it at your own taste and criteria.
3. Sing, read and observe
4. Forget who you are, and why are you there, just be there
5. Hug someone you love
6. Give that person a present, it must be priceless, (in both ways, no price, not bought)
7. Mix everything with the surprise element without messing up the dough you already have, without ruining the consistence, without dizzying the sparkled friends, without missing any word, without singing out of tune, without missing a sight, without remembering, without breaking anyone’s heart, without forgetting any ingredient.

[ If you succeed in this, step please tell me how. ]

8. If you got it, have it with a straight shot of wisdom, and share it!

[ Mrs. K i t e ]
yeah... why not.. we're not cooks but we wont starve.
[ write why should we wake up tomorrow ]

Hi mom!

I am sorry I hadn't had the time to talk to you this week, but I promise I'll get some time next one. You must be wondering how am I in my first week of college, and I'm fine. I know you expect something more elaborate, but overall it's fine. This week I saw that old math teacher, remember? The one that was a Cowboys fanatic, it was kind of funny seeing him again, after the graduation I though I would never see him, but he's now teaching here. It's pretty darn awesome, because he's not my teacher anymore, so it's not like when we were all those years at high school, but I get to see him often. I've been talking lately with my old chemistry teacher, he's now studying in the state's University for his PhD, it's awesome talking to him as a friend now, after having him as a mean badass teacher last year.

Do you remember Liz? I'm not sure I talked a lot about her, but the thing is that she's across the hall in my dorm room, seriously, it seems my past is hunting me, which is cool because I wouldn't know what to do otherwise. She's doing a major on Economics, which seems great at this times, not a crisis in over 10 years!

I know I just talked about teachers and friends, but that's all I remember, now I have to go to Calc I, or I won't get a decent seat.

P.S Food could be better, bathrooms as not as bad as we imagined, and apparently the two tons of toilet paper you sent will be enough...

Kim

[bending]
By I'm the penguin
[Describe the formula for happiness]

I remember when I tried to tell you everything would be OK, still I knew everything was not OK, it was everything but that. How we hated change, how we wished things were different, I closed my eyes, I hugged you by the side. I had nothing else to do; your breathing was quick and spasmodic. “Just Breathe,” I told you. You had no answer, just some quick attempts of words, I’ve never seen you liked that, I loved you, it hurt me as much as it hurt you. And you seemed lonely, you wouldn’t let me in, I was an outsider, so close, so wanting to be inside, but it was too hard for me, for you.

I don’t actually remember it as an event, as a story or as a something. I know it happened, how it did, how I deny a whole lot of facts from it. That event is not a movie in my mind, but a big, huge division of an after and a before. I was sitting at one side of the bed when I heard the words. I cried. I cried for the whole day. I still do. Then, there is an after, a whole part of my life I cannot remember, I cannot grasp, I don’t want to remember when memories try to come back.

Later on, I stood by your side, we were holding hands, it was raining, I was also holding a black umbrella, drops made an almost symphonic-requiemish pattern, and the dripping of water in the edges made me cry even more. Your face was deep, cold, and incredibly sad. You let my hand go, I walked away. Your chasseurs in the muddy fields, across the flower beds, reaching the unreachable vaults of memory and loss. A scent of wild flowers, and pine, coming from the box at the center.

My eyes were swollen, I pressed my face in my uncles big black tux. I pretended I was sleeping, I didn’t want to see mom. A friend approached, and I continued to pretend my sleep, as I still do today. I didn’t know where my brother was. I was being hugged and carried across the grassy field with the big hole in the middle. I remember cameras, flowes, tears, microphones, and my childhood taken away.

It's not good at telling people, but this makes HER cry, when she remembers
reality is not fiction
trivia for penguins: who's big black tux is it?

[Mrs. K i t e ]
[make me feel nostalgic of the future]

"Of course I remember, and I'll agree it was just like any other December, but for me it was different, it seemed a common Decemeber but by January I knew it hadn't just been any other one. But yes, that was the day we "met". I remember I went with some friends to some party, you know how much I dislike just crashing into them. Then we sat around one of those plastic table which seemed about to fall every two minutes, and indeed, there was a lot of people.

And as I went one by one, analyzing them, observing them, as you know I do. I noticed some girl just taking shot after shot, finishing the very last drop of fine vodka there was in the party, and as this girl drank more, she stared at me more and more. For a second I was sure I had something weird on my shirt or something, or just perhaps I looked like someone she knew, but the stares continued.

And they were not shy, descrete stares that are used in the clumpsy flirting, they were broad, wide stares, just looking at me while I was pretending to talk to a friend who was drunk. And so the girl interested me, why was she looking at me? It was not that akward at first, just a drunk girl, but then when our eyes met, instead of looking away, instead of holding the stare or any other movie-like reaction, I smiled goofyly."


By I'm the penguin



Dear Mrs. Kite,

First of all I would like to thank you've had the decency to read this, after all you might as well be able to burn or delete this letter, or worse, ignoring it.

Second, I would like to point out that I think we have been making use of a gift with much shamelessness, I think. Perhaps It would help to stop making an abuse of it, just to value and cherish the power of it, and to have fun, why not?

Third, I know you might be wondering "gift?which gift? do we have gifts? why was I not noticed?!" and no, I won't leave it at last to make some cheesy lecture thingy where we all learn something at the end. I just like the suspense, and drama for all it's worth. And so I say, our overused gift is freedom.

We've been making use of freedom of speech for over 182 days now! Are we ever going to start getting used to the upcoming authoritarianism which is adulthood? Maybe, hope not. But you see, the whole point of this is to set into motion a plan of mine which I've been putting a lot of thought into.

I propose we start creating by commission, and of course we would give the voice to our lovely readers, if such lovely people in fact existed. So I say, we follow this challenge for two weeks, see how it goes not having all that power of creating, not being able to ride until the infinite, so we learn a little about liberty, and our self particular bizarreness.

Fourth, I explain. Today you will be able to see my commission just below my signature, and based on that commission, or "request", you make a post. Then you will give me a commission or "request" for mine. The instructions are simple: Follow the instructions.


P.S Make me know if you agree, otherwise this will only look senseless.
P.S2Remember how much I love bending rules and instructions based on their ambiguity or lack of certainty.


Sinceirly, I'm the penguin
[make me want to cry]

“I don’t think you remember it. But still, I’m going to tell you about it. It was December, I think, it was not colder, not warmer than other years, lets say it was, a usual December. Usual in every sense, which is so ironic coming from me, I know, but that’s exactly my point. This sort of months is never usual, everything than usual for any other person, but lets say it was usual for me. We met that month. Do you remember? Not that year though, but I was looking at you, and thinking. God, it’s been one year, time flies. You didn’t seem to notice me, as I sat in the plastic white chair, at the table, surrounded by people I did not know, and who didn’t even knew themselves, all this of course, after several vodka shots. I was chatting with them, talking about nothing, hugging some other heart-broken guy, and laughing with the girl who never got drunk, but that time. You where still in the other side, and I looked at you from my table, you glanced at me sometimes and gave me a shy smile. But that was it. You don’t remember do you?”

[ Mrs. K i t e ]

Zeus was mad at Athena, mad at the deceive and mad at how much was put at risk because of her, yet he needed help, so he ordered her to kill for once the Titan. Despite both of the asteroids knew that some day they would end up colliding , they tried to slow doewn, give away energy and change courses, trying to procrastinate the inevitable.

Zikaos didn't loose more time, so he dodged Athena and attacked Zeus again. But the encounter with her sister had made him low the guard, and that was all Zeus needed to hit an accurate strike, and with luck's favor, perhaps the last one. And so Zeus hit the titan with a lighting, who fell immediately.

Once in the ground, Zeus thrusted his magnanimous sword into Zikaos' abdomen, stating the victory of himself and all the Gods.What was left to do was castrate him to strip him from any power, so Zeus gave that task to Athena, so she could redeem her wrong. Zikaos remained still in the ground, contemplating the tragic scene where his sister was. Athena was paralyzed, something that had never happened to her before, because after all doubt was for humans. Wasn't it?

After a couple of moments where Zeus was hysteric yelling the Godess of wisdom, she reacted. Athena approached the pair, sword in ahnd, prepared to make a certain cut, prepared for a decision which she would surely regret. She arrived, swifted her legendary sword and with a cut it all ended, the iron in the weapon produced loud vibrations.

Zeus was bewildered, he could not understand how her daughter, his beloved Godess, the perfection of the Olympus had perpetuated such an act. How could it be that Athena, Godess of wisdom had betrayed him in such a way? Three of his children had betrayed him, beasts which he himself had cursed were now destroying all what he knew. And for a long period of time Zeus remained in the floor, downhearted for Athena's betray, dejected for her traison and the lost of his right hand. God's blood flowed though the valleys of Mount Olympus.

Athena couldn't believed what had just happened, never, since the begining of her existence had she disobeyed her patriarch, had never questioned him or even though for once the posibility of defying him. But now she found herself holding a sword, covered with blood and magnificence remains. And in front of her was a figure which resembled that God of the past, terrified, astonished and confused.

Zikaos was still in the floor, with a sword without swordsman in his belly. Despite that he couldn't believe what ahd just happened, and that nothing in the world could have convince him that it would all turn out that way hours before; something inside told him that that that was the way things had to happen, that it was like that how it chould all end.

Athena and Zikaos had nothing planned, but the knew exactly what to do. Zikaos took the spear of the titans, thrusted into the God of gods' head, stripping him from the control over himself, while Athena castrated him, stripping him from the control on everything else. That was how the lightnings ceased from existence and just a last time, it was heard how the skies craked.

The lympic gods were laying on the dirt, sreeching, squealing and squeking due to the end of the world, the sky was falling apart and the ground toring into pieces. And that last sore sound in the sky anounced the end of their golden age of despotism, they were no longer Gods, just mutilated figures who used to exist.

The doors of the tartarus busted open so the titans could come out from their lock down, the thypoes was resurrected and the shadows of the Underworld occupied the Earth. Zikaos and Athena broke the doors of the world of the death, who instead of wandering the land as ghosts or live an enternity inpisioned, the became part of the winds of chaos. And so the world was winded in chaosm, anouncing the existence of freedom, which lead to the Apocalipse of the known world.



By I'm the penguin

“Was it?”
“It was.”
“Crap.”
“I know.”
“Well then, what are you going to do about it now?”
“I guess nothing.”
"Nothing… interesting”
“Yeah... Nothing.”
“Good luck with your nothing then.”
“I need no luck.”
“Maybe you do. Maybe the nothing is a something.”
“Why would it be?”
“Because it is.”
“It is?”
“Yes sir, it is.”
“Oh, right. And I’m supposed to base everything in your common, simple assumptions, right?”
“No.”
“Ok, I feel better now.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Well then.”
“Well.”
“Goodbye.”
“Bye.”

“No wait……..”

[ Mrs. K i t e ]

In her way back, Athena was able to see rows and rows of fierce demons, ready to destroy any trace of life, ready to follow any of her brother's commands. Mostly ready to do anything that would get them what they had wanted for centuries, freedom. She also reached to see some other figures that seemed Gods from the far, but she knew that no one would ever dare to oppose to the major God, or would they?

It didn't took long for Zeus to notice what was happening in his kingdom, the prays asking to stop monsters were too many, and the winds announced with their arrival an upcoming war, unluckily for the God, these didn't say which kind of war was to come. So the thunder God started to mobilize his troops, Hephaestus was asked to make new and better weapons for the Gods, Ares was given the job to search for heroes, and Hermes was sent to investigate the source of these revolts.

The Olympic army was prepared and shiny, they were only missing the heroes that Ares would bring and Apollo's archers. The troops were ready, the colossus were polished and oiled, the lightnings were at hand and the spirits were up. Zeus trusted that whatever attempt of rebellion would just be that, an attempt. He had his personal guard, who could not be other than his most trustworthy child, Athena.

Zikaos had just returned from the last task he needed to fulfill in order to emerge from the darkness of death into the last battle, he had gone to Etna volcanoe, where the last remaining piece of his army lied almost dead. Now it was all complete, a hundred years of hiding, a hundred years of waiting and preparation, and it would all summarize in less than a day. So finally, Hades opened the doors to the external world and the army walked throught the stairs until the upper world, guided by Hades, Ares and Apollo.

Zeus noticed the increasing crowd from his post, but when he saw it was lead by his sons and brother, he stopped the attack command. Then, as he and his perfect amry came down from the mount Olympus, Zeus asumed that Ares and Apollo had gone ahead and captured the threat. Then he made his first mistake, he approached them by himself, congratulating his children and his brother, when all of a sudden a creature from the crowd stepped up. He had the loks of a God, but his escence was more similar to those of ancient beings who used to wander the planet, Titans.

"Zeus, you have ruled for far too long now" was the first thing head in such a confusing scene. "Your rushed decisions and vices have taken this world to a decadent state, your time in this world has reached its end, and it is time for us to do something about it" Ended the strange being infront of the army.

Ofended, Zeus sent Ares to capture and murder the titan, but Ares just stood there. Then Zeus went to Apollo, who followed his brother's examplo. At last he asked Hades, who just answered with a shallow and diabolical laugh. Zeus had a second of confusion, and then he condamned the three Gods and the titan to a slow and painful death.

And so it began, at first the Gods were sweeping the monsters so fast the monsters had no chance, they crushed the fallen heroes and broke into pieces the celestial archers. But as they attacked more, the crowd just got bigger, more and more hell demons were coming from the Underworld. Soon the giants arrived to fight with the colossus, the harpies started attacking the beautiful and perfect faces of the Gods, and chaos started.

Ares and Apolo were fighint a death match with his father, who was overpowering them by far, it seemed they were about to die. Thunders, lighinigs and sparks few all over the field, the wrath of the skied was unleashed in the base of the Mount Olympus. Zikaos sent troops to corned the Gods into the mount. And while the rest of the Gods were defending themselves as they could, Athena was crushing one by one, every monster that got anywhere near her sight.

When Apollo was finally fallen, Ares seemed not to have a single chance angainst the supreme king of thuner. But it was then when Zikaos entered into the epic battle. He threw an ancient spear, forged by Atlas and other titians, so Zeus answered with a thunder. The tunder broke into a million pieces when it encountered the spear, Zeus couldn't believe it, he had been hurt with a simple spear by a being who was not even a God. But anyone should know that not even a spear in the chest could stop the God of Gods.

Then, as one of his own thunders, the idea hit Zeus with a bolt. There was nothing that could confirm it, but he knew, that Titan, that rebel was no other than his second child with the titan Metis. For a second he paralyzed, thinking of all things that implied them both fighting, and the posibility of his failure, and as he went through it all, his lighting became more violent and anxious.

The final match had started, Zeus and Zikaos dived into a fight that made the earth shake, and even the tiniest particle vibrate. Thunders were being fired everywhere, and sounds of metals as old as time echoed all over the world. The rest of the gods were being outnumbered by the beasts, who had once been human, and would still be if it weren't for said deities.

The fight continued, Zeus was fully concious that Zikaos had a prophecy advantage, he also knew that it would all end if he didn't win the match, so he called for help in a desperate attempt to gain some control over the fight. The help didn't take long to come, but it was only one elemnt, and perhaps the only one capable of helpong. It was the Goddess of wisdon and war, who had fiercely finished with half of the creatures. Athena.



[all it takes is one idea, one decision... and the revolution is started]
By I'm the penguin