WEBSITE: —
LOCATION: AZ
RECORDS: 7
LATEST RECORD: almost 2 years ago
JOINED: July 17, 2010
LOCATION: AZ
RECORDS: 7
LATEST RECORD: almost 2 years ago
JOINED: July 17, 2010
All TiDog's RECords
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I'm guessing that you must have ignored the title, but the question is- W H Y ??? -Did you not take my statement literally? -Are you feeling somewhat rebellious? -Are you having an off day and don't give a [enter desired swear here]? -Is your mind in need of enlightenment? -Do you feel hot, nauseous, and on the edge of hysteria? *Oh. Really? Then go see a doctor! -Have you been watching too many spy movies and finally feel invincible? -Did you parents withhold treats from you as a kid? -Is it your mission to counteract advice given to you? -Are you a man? -Are you unhappy about being given commands? -Do you not care for warnings? -Were you double dog dared to take a look? *My response- Seriously, dude? Seriously? Wow. -Were you momentarily blinded by the computer screen and unable to see the title? -Did you think the title led to a more interesting read? -Have I not listed your excuse? -By my listing that I haven't listed your excuse, haven't I just listed your excuse? Are you finding my questions rather annoying, or insightful? Good. QUESTION: Which answer suits you the best? Warning: Do not take the sexist joke seriously. |
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So I wrote this poem, as well as the one I released yesterday, three years ago. They were written when I was feeling both bored and inspired, so take a read and tell me what you think. I am all eyes ;) Life is so confusing if likes to be so pushing forcing us to accept whats wrong to learn to become strong I'm scared about the future and all that it beholds I filled with many regrets and find that I let my feelings cloud my head and make me want to hide in bed but although I may admit wrong I realize that I am strong I've had many failures and yet I haven't bailed my dreams and my goals my thriving soul continues to be my light my everlasting fight |
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Boredom is like the color white... Everlastingly bleak. It defines a person's way do something unique Tears at the surface of laughter Hangs onto those who pass by Seethes on all who poses time Loaths all who don't commit crime Feels intensley aware of its own tire Of obstacles that circle life Of peers who pretend to be so nice Of passing days that refuse to fasten And hours of strife that no longer hasten Days are sifted into a floury mold Completely boring and often old |
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So I've gotten to know this website, over the past few days since I've joined, pretty well. I understand what the hits, recommendations and remark boxes are, but what exactly is heartrate? That part is a mind-boggler (I love that phrase :) Anyways, if anyone... really ANYONE, can answer my "simple question" that would be really fantastic. Thank you! :) -Tiesha AKA TiDog |
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HitRECord, RegularJoe, and the general public of this site, THANK YOU! This website, in my opinion, is better than any other communicative webpage out there. This site gives an individual the personal freedom to expose their work to more than just their family and friends, but to an audience composed of artists like themselves. We can view the creations of others and be legally capable of remixing it into something even more unique. This site connects us in ways that are beyond mental, but spiritual. We expose ourselves to others by telling tales with the videos, audio, images, and text that define us, or at least a part of us. I must admit that I first joined this site because I was a fan of Joseph Gordon-Levitt, but it later became much more than that. I realized that this webpage was exactly the kind of collaborative community that I always wanted to participate in. It is my dream to become a published author. I like flowing words together so they form a sort of melody. I enjoy the sounds that certain words make, i.e. delicious or vibrant. And I especially love creating a world for a reader to temporarily live in and experience. An aspiring artist, like me, can finally finish the projects he or she starts; by giving them a target audience to please. It’s almost like a taste test to see how the customer enjoys the delicate composition of the piece that an individual created. In that way, the artist can get a good idea of how others will enjoy their work. The point of this letter is to voice my appreciation not only towards this website, or RegularJoe himself, but to everyone who takes part in this site. I want to thank RegularJoe for being so dedicated to this; it is truly inspirational. It is one thing to be a well-known actor who is busy making films to accomplish something as big as this website, and another to be a “regular” (no fame included) person achieving this. Also, thank you to the general public of HitRECord.org for sharing such visionary and extraordinary works of art. And lastly, thank you to the website HitRECord for simply existing. That in itself is rather wonderful. So, farewell for now, I have enjoyed letting my hand type away my unspoken thoughts. For me, writing allows me to better understand myself and well, not be corny, but a little more of the world as well. So thank you for reading, I’ll be submitting more of my stories later on in the day, week, month, year, and so on. And although my skills seem to be limited to only writing, I will contribute to other’s work as much as I can. Have a great day… or night! ;) Sincerely, Tiesha (or TiDog) |
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A thousand pesky memories whiz, zip, and zoom menacingly near the hippocampus region that inhibits Trinity’s brain. Dare she let them enter? And let them sting, pinch, and nudge her in ways that would breech her firewall. She despairs not! Jet revving, feet pawing, Trinity sped as speedily as she could down the long winding staircase that led to the outer green-infested world. She sought to relieve herself of such accumulating evidence of her past. A stair she misses, and she is sent catapulting through the hot air until, splash! She is engulfed in a vast expanse of whirling, swirling, and bubbling broad strokes of clear gray liquid. Like an elephant squealing at the sight of a mouse, Trinity resurfaces in a girlishly petrified state. Dress soaked, hair mopped in the pool’s stench, and round droplets of gleaming dissatisfaction begin to haunt this young woman’s gaunt face. Darkness, black and rigid, pries Trinity’s mind free of any last thoughts of water. Its claustrophobic tool shed of emptiness and impending doom jolts her rather large feet back into action. As night blends with fear, Trinity’s pulse quickens. Thud, thud, boom, screech! Her heart noisily fusses within her chest. A clash and rumble follows. She knows that her time is almost up. More resilient than ever, she hurdles herself over her neighbor’s sunshine yellow fence. Flipping off her flip-flops, she heel-bottoms the earthy soil and greenified grass and trails through fields of flowers, splashed with vibrant colors. Light illuminates the noir sky. And with that flash, a red letter blazes into Trinity’s mind stream. Silly-slapped, she stops, freezing in mid-move. As guard-up as she had been, her level of smarts were beaten out by Fate’s set decision. Handsome and refined Fate was. He was glamorously done up from toe to head. His face shone through the unsightly darkness to light the unlit. How wonderfully beautifying this young man was. His presence was calming to the soul, but the mind was unresolved. Through the cage that rattled amid Trinity’s head, stirred distrust and raging anger. She had dispensed her pickled mind of all things categorized as fortune-uprooting for too long of a decade. That red lettered F she had once received in class had been spiked to a post and left to decay. Little had Trinity foreseen that these repressed moments she had once experienced in time would rejoin her and her hand-selected memories. Briefcase in hand and eyes solidly locked onto Trinity’s, Fate unfastens the clasp. Whoosh! A swarm of racing thoughts lingers in the air, buzzing loudly all of Trinity’s most chi-shocking moments. Age 6. Hand too big to reach her Barbie doll, Trinity’s hand jammed itself into place within the toilet bowl. Age 12. The pink cheeks of her rear shone like white entering a black-lighted area in the P.E. locker-room. Wearing of the undergarments hadn’t crossed her mind that day. Age 2. Finger aimed high, nose twitching, and satisfaction guaranteed. She aimed for her nostril and click! a camera flashes. Blackmailed, and by her own brother! Age 19. College should be easier if friends are acquired. Sorority initiation… skin clothed, Trinity ran amidst crowd-hovering individuals, exhibiting to them her naked bodess. So many knot-making, stomach-clenching remembrances that Trinity despised. Red-faced and sullen-eyed, she tried to avoid looking into Fate’s pitch black eyes. They were so deep and analytical. Their eyes catch. His wisdom and intellect are apparent. Through his enticing stare, Trinity saw her life of neglect. She had lived on happiness alone. Her misery was forgotten and if any anti-pleasant situation arose, she ended its memory. Her life was blissful, but it was empty. Trinity was brim-boiled with a sudden sadness. Blobs of wetness oozed out of her eyes as she sobbed over feelings that had gone unfelt for so long. Happy as she had been, life had grown disaster-ridden and yawn-producing. Now, as rocky as it was, Trinity knew that her life had to be lived with the passion and distress that had both imprisoned and freed her. With a little movement of the lips and a twitch of the corners of the mouth, she smiled a small smile. But the biggest one occurred inside; a smile so deep that it mended her patchy mind by filling the missing sections with tiny pieces of her. And she lived happily ever after … well, more or less so. |
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