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Post by Selja Hakalamaki on Mar 13, 2005 21:33:18 GMT -5
"Oh... Well I'll see you later." I say, disappointed.
(Work time, g2g)
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Post by Sakari Lehtinen on Mar 13, 2005 21:36:51 GMT -5
"Yeah me too, he's such a weirdo..." Sakari replies, looking over the various roller skates.
"Oh, those!" I say, pointing to a pair. The girl behind the counter hands me a pair of cherry red roller skates. I take them, smiling.
"Alright, they're playing Naughty by Nature!" Sakari says, waving his hands in the air.
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Post by Cambridge Brackenfield on Mar 13, 2005 23:06:06 GMT -5
Sakari is a good skater. Cambridge struggles a little, but gets the hang of it, and once sie does, starts to enjoy hirself. Who knew that skating around in a circle to music could be so fun.
"Maybe later we should get some pizza and mellow yellow."
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Post by Hearst on Mar 13, 2005 23:09:41 GMT -5
Last week's bank robbery didn't go as well as expected. We are counting on this abduction to work out. The liberation is moving too slowly, but I remain faithful.
Hours pass and the SLA soldiers do not contact me or the others. I start to worry. But no, they won't fail. Too much rides on success.
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Post by Aleksandra Odinsova on Mar 13, 2005 23:14:01 GMT -5
When I finally get so sick of my family that I just can't stand them, I head to the mall alone. I know I shouldn't go out alone with all the terrorism or what not, but being held hostage by my family is no better than the risks I run going out on my own.
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Post by Lan Zheng-Lafleur on Mar 13, 2005 23:20:31 GMT -5
I take a walk, then return to my room to look over some reports and prepare some words for later. Everything is prepared for me, so it takes very little effort to do my work. I wonder what is wrong with me. Why have I been so nervous lately?
I check my schedual and see that I have an interview later today. I suppose I should prepare for that as well.
I feel so detached from the world and myself. I need to get on top of things again.
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Post by espiranza on Mar 13, 2005 23:27:09 GMT -5
I sleep only a few hours since I have many things on my mind.
Morning comes uncomfortably early, and I walk to the finca with my brothers and sisters.
There is still much fruit to pick, the season will last a few months longer. I am waiting for the end. But then things are harder then. We have to find income in other ways.
I wish we could just be subsistent.
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Post by Salome Weil on Mar 13, 2005 23:36:51 GMT -5
I admire Nea's apartment while we wait. For a student, she has a nice apartment. It is better than my own. But like so many other things, that is a choice for me.
"This is a nice place, Nea."
I fold my long arms behind my back as I look around.
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Post by Valodya Bassarov on Mar 13, 2005 23:54:50 GMT -5
Bassarov returns to the meeting and wonders where Sakari is. It is odd that Sakari has not attending the past two days of meetings. Bassarov takes his seat next to Erich and Alejos and begins to take notes as one of the aged party leaders stands up to speak. Looking around he sees something interesting. The party leadership is all in their 60s, yet the party members are all in their 20s. He doesn't think much of it, and starts jotting things down.
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Bella
Party Sympathizer
Christian/Singer
%\2\%
Posts: 21
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Post by Bella on Mar 14, 2005 0:02:37 GMT -5
Backpack filled sufficiently, Mrs. Malone checks her tickets and passport and heads outside, locking the door to her small studio apartment behind her. She catches a bus at the corner and heads off to the Leguardia airport. Security is as tight as ever, there are many terrorist groups on the move now, each trying to overthrow America, the capitalist fortress. Finally, she has checked her bag and finds herself sitting in seat 10D, which has her positioned between an old woman working on a crossword puzzle and a fidgetty, heavy set man by the window. She tucks her handbag underneath her seat, buckles her seat belt, leans her head back against the head rest and waits for the plane to leave. Soon she will be landing at Heathrow and starting her European backpacking adventure. (Soon is very relative, it will actually be hours later.)
The heavyset man elbows her in the arm while trying to adjust himself in the small coach seat. He doesn't appologize or even seem to notice that he has done it. This happens a number of times during the flight. Mrs. Malone tries to look past his bulk to see out the window, watching as the clouds change color and shape, rushing under the wings.
After many bathroom trips, a moderately appetizing sandwich, plastic cups filled with orange juice (no ice), a few postcard sized watercolor paintings, and the beginnings of her vacation journal entries, the plane is landed... she is through to baggage, and backpack in hand, she walks outside into the fresh English air, which is rather damp.
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Post by Dead Character on Mar 14, 2005 0:11:48 GMT -5
Antero works a few hours later since one of the guys called in sick. The boss overlooked his tardiness because he stayed later. Today, things are going to be okay. Job security extends one more work day. He leaves work tired and covered in sauce and grease. He had to do extra duties in the kitchen since they were short staffed. It was another long day, and coming home to an answering machine with messages from bill collectors doesn't make it any better.
He turns on the television and tries to zone out his life. The colors and noise hypnotise him and everyone else who works full time, just enough to keep on living like a zombie.
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Post by Peter G. Nielsen on Mar 14, 2005 1:08:14 GMT -5
Peter sips on a can of diet coke and listens to the two women talking. Though he appears to be bored, his right hand rests close to his 9mm. If this girl was really the one who set the bomb and not just some chick with a sick sense of humor, then he'd have to take her into custity. "A interesting way of looking at things. Of course, I am inclined to agree with you. Dying for a cause is not as useful as living for one."
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Post by dariya on Mar 14, 2005 1:16:53 GMT -5
"Sorry, my name is Dariya. I didn't see you there. Wise words, depending on your cause. What's your cause, stranger?"
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Post by Hearst on Mar 14, 2005 2:42:21 GMT -5
Night falls and I go out to lay in a brown field to look up at the stars. I am still waiting for their return. I would like to reprimand them for some failed expectation they were ignorant of.
I spread my arms to embrace that darkness in the sky. Some of that light is already dead. I am looking at the remnants of something lost, but so distant that it isn't real to us.
That is society. Society is dead. I am just one of the early detectors of its death.
The others will know soon enough. We will show them. We will throw off the corpse of civilization collectively.
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Post by tounela on Mar 14, 2005 3:12:25 GMT -5
Discussion over new legislation took longer than I had anticipated, so when I arrive at the Green Party meeting in California, it is later than I would have liked. I had to reschedual the flight, and Helsinki to San Fransisco is no short jaunt.
When I do arrive, I am tired. My gray suit hangs like a crumbled paper bag off of my tired body. My weariness makes me look 10 years older than I am. I wear it under my eyes and in the thin lines by my lips.
When I approach Adam, Toivo, and the unknown Green Party member, I force a smile upon my face. I look at this point like a smiling skeleton, bone white, dark eyed, angular.
"Hello Toivo, sorry that I am late. It is good to see such a large turn out. I am afraid that the new set of noise pollution laws were voted down. It is difficult with our minor status to glean support for these sorts of things." I say to Toivo. I glance at the others and smile fakely.
Each and every gesture, my posture, my entire being looks well thought out, calculated, and distant.
I strive for a choreographed presence. I hate the unexpected. I do my best to keep away from Toivo when he is doing political things, since most people I meet do not like me and I don't want it to reflect on him.
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