Something I'm working on

[Aaron]

Hopefully someone here will find this interesting...I just did this like 5 min. ago. I want to know what you think. I know that there isn't anything really going on in it and I don't want to know if you think it is cool or bad. I want to know if you think the style of the writting is annoying or funny or stupid and confusing.

Thanks...
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So there is twas all shiny and new
I forgot about it,
being you!

But that wasn't what was important, I knew that. But I knew that. Jesus, I knew! And for that I'm sorry.

I'm sure by now your very confused. But thank you for taking time to read my tale. A very simple tale. With a lot of information... Well never mind, I'll just let you decide. But this is how it all started:

“I was born on a page.”
“Come again?”
“You know, a page. Like the kind people use for books and stuff.” The two men sat in front of each other. They were in a modest kitchen home. Silence was everywhere except the kitchen, everything was very very dark. The bald man peered straight into his cup. It was empty. He slowly put it down, careful not to make a noise when the porcelain hit the tabletop.
“What are you drinking?” He said with a clever smile, and a chuckle for sides.
“Tea.”
“It's two the bloody morning why the hell are you drinking tea?”
“I thought thats what you did here in London.”
“Yeah, but not at two in the morning, it's time for sleep and all that. And I have no idea why I'm still up talkin' with you. So goodnight, I'm going to sleep, we've got till six and then we have to keep going.” The bald man got up and disappeared into the blackness that encompassed the house. Everything except the kitchen that is.
The other man remained alone in the kitchen, he was a younger fellow. Mid-twenties, healthy and clean. No visual defilements mark his body. He embodied what men call prime. He once ran all the way through Los Angeles. Non-stop too. What, could a man like this be running from?
His eyes were black, like the eyes of a mustang. Some would have argued that he was the mustang. But life, as it seems has a way of turning things around. And lately he had been at odds with the “aged” men. In particular a man named, _______. He, though being older and having one fourth of his head overtaken by gray hairs, was the leader of the intrepid group. They really are intrepid it's not just a mindless cliché that is easily passed over. This group of men, oh and one woman, are the soul reason why our world is propelling toward its end. They are wanted from sea to shining sea.
So why is it that they cannot be found? The people. They love them. They love everything about them. Rather other's would have you think that it is the very hand of God that allows them to be untouched. And with all things hoped for, God is always thrown into matters like these. From colonial rebellions to children and their parents. God is in it all. One thing they fail to notice is that God is omni present. And is everywhere all the time. Now think for a moment of a place where men know God does not exist. In that case, God has chosen for His own blessed and holy reason to remove His touch from a person, place or thing. With no touch there can be no joy.
The young man with eyes like a mustang looked at his tea and got up. He picked up his cup and his friends, and properly placed them into the kitchen sink two steps to the right.

[TheRadicalAusa]

WOW. That is probably one of the best amateur (spelling?) pieces I've read in awhile. Great work. Maybe I'll be reading a novel of yours someday.

[LuNaRtIc]

That's great! You certainly have a way with words. Your writing flows very nicely and is captivating. I hope to read some more of your work in the future!

[Aaron]

thanks for the positive reinforcement!

i think I will work on it some more

I'll post here again to show you more

EDIT-
Incase people are wondering why there is a ______ in it. It is because I haven't thought of a name yet. So...ya

[phyco126]

I haven't read all of it, but the little bits of comedy I gathered from it inspired me to begin work on a new project of mine. Dunno when I'll actually start it, but still, yeah. Anyway, good luck with the rest

[yroc]

Very impressive work. Whenever you finish it, please share it.

[Aaron]

Delivered as promised. Now I actually do want to know if you like it....lol

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CHP 2

Morning came quickly and everyone headed to a van. They were traveling to Heathrow airport, they took nothing with them. Each one took a separate flight to a separate place. Nygeel, the bald headed man from the early morning took a plane to Tel Aviv, Israel. He was dressed in a green sweater, and black slacks. Leather penny loafers protected his feet. No one really knew where he came from. He just appeared one day. And that is what Nygeel does best. Nygeel is very adamant at keeping secrets and so all that is known about him is what is visible, and of course, his British accent.
It was advised to me one time to never ever ask Nygeel about soccer. They said that he doesn't call it that. You see, in Briton they call it, football. And to call it anything else was just too...well to put it Nygeel's way, “Too damn yank.”
Nygeel was huge, a beast you might say, and he earned the nickname “Dead Rhino” from charging straight into a shot-gun shell. He was lucky, and just plain stupid. The assailant was too startled by the sight of Nygeel lunging straight for him to aim properly. He hit Nygel square in the chest; though not from good aim. Nygeel is just so huge that there was simply nothing else to hit. How he survived no one knows. But the moment he was hit he collapsed straight onto the ground.
You know...it is not at all like the movies. Heroes charging and dying gloriously in the heat of battle. All that made him fall down was a simple slug no bigger than a mans thumb, filled to the brim with metal balls. The event left many people awed, and as a result Nygeel doesn't like to talk about it.
Although Nygeel was huge, he was never overweight, just a graciously large individual. Because of his abnormal size, he was abnormally strong and even fast. What was shocking about Nygeel is was that even for his brute, he is perfectly healthy and that is why ______ picked him to go to Israel.
______ wanted him to go to Israel to “clean up” a bit. It seems that lately, a famous expatriate from the Czech republic had been warming up the streets of Tel Aviv. A woman by the name of Nadaline Kurchatsviok. She has been responsible for much the terrorist money transfers. When group A needed to deliver something to group B. She made it possible. At least for the North Eastern Middle East Bloc.
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I'm not done with this chapter yet, but thsi is what i have so far.