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About Deviant Jace TerryMale/United States Recent Activity
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There are times in your life when creativity is key, as a child you are praised to do your best, to imagine things, to create things. However as life goes on that is suppressed, reality and seriousness become the key. The vibrant imagination of your childhood is replaced, with cold facts and logical reasoning. Not for all but for some, and not for all for anyone. We all still hold a piece of this, that is what happens when you watch a movie, see a drawing, hear a music piece and feel inspired. When you hear news of some team beating 8000:1 odds. You feel a sense of pride, a sense of awe. You sit down at your computer with the notion to write something of your own, or perhaps it is naught but a fleeting thought that is carried off with the wind. Whatever the case is, that is your inner artist screaming, pleading to come out. To fill the world with its ideas. However we dilute this urge, thoughts of food, games, or work that needs to be done wash away this feeling. Then it is gone, gone again until the next muse appears. But will this one be enough to overpower the thought of wanting a cheeseburger? In C.S. Lewis’ The Screwtape letters he teeters with the idea the demons can interject thoughts into us. For example, if you were about to help an elderly lady across the street, but you remember you left your stove at home on. Trivial thoughts like this can make us veer away from pious, moral goals we set. This is the same for the expression of ourselves. We let tiny thoughts steer us away from writing that story we have always wanted to write or create that movie script we had always been thinking about. We stop, we let life move on, our ideas to vanish.
Occasionally we sit down, we put our thoughts to action and we write, we draw, we create. If we persist and put pen to paper, it becomes exhausting. Every letter is paramount to climbing Mt. Everest, your body becomes worn out and you want to stop. To create is soul-wrenching, and that is what your mind latches onto. It sees this “anguish” as torture akin to working out, doing manual labor. It sees it as a chore. So every time you sit down to create again, your brain reminds of you of this, pleads with you to stop. However as you all are already saying it doesn’t see the whole picture.
When we finish a piece of art we regard it with absolute fondness, sure we critique and harp on what we did wrong, but ultimately we love our own creations. People 20,30, 40 years down the line can still remember fondly, the poems they wrote, the songs they crafted. Instead of treating it as a series of strenuous tasks they see it as a whole, even if the project wasn’t finished. They see these as things they wish the could still emulate, relics of a golden age of themselves. Often they make excuses why they could never do that again, why it just isn’t possible they are too busy. Pink Floyd’s Time puts it best, “Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time, plans that either have come to naught, or half a page of scribbled lines”. We fight, delay, and neglect our inner artists. Don’t let your apathy win, don’t walk away from your drive. Or, ten, twenty, thirty years from now you will be filled with nothing, and regret.

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    Chapter 1: Intro

    There he is...the man I had been running from for seven days. He is still wearing that same stupid grin as the day I first met him. *WHOOSH* A bullet flies by as cracking into the wall besides me.

“There is nowhere to run James, you dun run urself into a corner,” The man I now knew as Reginald boasts from across the town. Damn he is right, I have one, two...three shots left I guess I better make them count. I spring up to my feet and run headfirst at Reginald.

    “Why you should kno not to back wild animals into a corner they’re dangerous,” I say blasting a shot in his direction. He quickly sidesteps as I continue running headlong into his body. With a crash I plow Reggy into the dirt and start slamming my gun butt into his face. Through pounding blows,” You...should..not...mess...with James,” the last blow cracking open Reggy’s face as blood spurts into the air covering him in a red gel. *Gunshot* I fall backwards as a bullet lands in my side forcing me onto my butt as I use my remaining strength to aim at Reggy’s face. I cock back the hammer ready to end that cocky grin of his.

    *JASON I’M DONE WITH YOU AND THAT DARNED VIDEO GAME* Mom yells as I sit back in my chair stupefied.

    Maybe I should explain how I got to this point.. It all started a week ago when I heard about this new computer game Outlaws. It was the first time in a long time I had picked up a game let alone a computer game, but hey winter had just started and going outside became less of an option. So after hours of grueling decision making I finally came up with the most cowboy name possible John James. I booted up the game to enter this crazy new world.

James found himself in Crook’s Den, he was surrounded by some of the most deplorable lowlife Wicha had to offer. James took a good look at his surroundings, noting everything from the diluted beer the barkeep was selling to the hidden guns underneath the poker table. Everything about this place reeked of the underbelly of society, James couldn’t have felt more at home.

“Barkeep, I want a glass of your finest horse piss, something to drown out the smell of shitmouth over here, “ James said motioning to slobbering drunk that sit half cocked next to him. The barkeep with a scowl across his face slid down a mug of what looked like yesterday’s toliet water. James took a long drink as the man next to him started to wiggle. He sat up with a puzzled look on his face, that quickly turned to anger.

“Did ye call me a shit eater mister?” The belligerent man garbled through hiccups.

“I think I should called you shithead instead, because it doesn’t sound like there is much else in there,” James smirked content with his remark and took another drink. The inebriate again stood pondering James statement like the words of Buddha.

    “You know mister them there are fightin words,” the drunkard said, then nodding to himself as if in agreement that was the best response. James laughed but continued drinking. “You know I don’t take to kindly to them fightin words,” the man blurted out, spoken more to convince himself then James. James continued drinking without word to the intoxicated lowlife. However his drink was cut short as the man knocked it to the ground causing the bustle of the tavern to come to a screeching halt. James stood slightly dumbfounded at the idiot. “Yu git me now, I don’t like them words,” the fool said with much more confidence.

    James sat back and chuckled, “You know if I hadn’t been in such a good mood before comin here, your petty little life would have ended just then”. “Now this can all be settled right now, just buy me two more drinks and we can call it even.” The intoxicated buffon sat there once again with an idiotic look upon his face, before coming to a conclusion.

    “I don’t owe you shit, you… you,” various burps and stammering followed before the dunce came up with, “ you shit eater.”

James laughed once again, “Mister, I don’t wanna blow your brains all over this floor, the owner of this here establishment wouldn’t be too keen on cleaning that up, and I honestly don’t find you worth the bullet.” There was no further comment from the man just blind swinging that James easily dodged. The man’s futile attempts just caused further rage to build up in James until finally one landed on James’ jaw. One last chuckle escaped his lips before his gun was drawn. Lightning fast the bullet that captured the drunk man’s last thought found itself crushed on the saloon floor. James face upholding a malevolent grin, gestured to the crowd to make a move before making his way out the door. Soon however he peeked his head back in and flipped a coin at the barkeep, “Take this for the mess,” and ran onto his horse out of town.

    I was taken aback at opening sequence, it was completely interactive; I felt like I controlled every aspect. I became totally enthralled with my character James, unfortunately mom’s call for dinner pulled me away. It was taco Tuesday and some new game wasn’t keeping me from that. James will just have to wait.

    Chapter 2:

    I  kept thinking about how awesome James was all day. “Like blow I put a bullet through a guy’s head,” I told one of my friends at the lunch table.

    “Yeah but that is just a stupid video game, it isn’t like you are cool in real life,” my friend pretentiously commented.It didn’t matter their hate I was very ready to get home and see what would happen next with James...oh crap it was laundry day. I came home and rushed through my laundry as fast as possible, itching to get to James’ next story. I was finally ready to play when my old weiner dog came in and sat on my lap. I pet the sweet mutt. The game could wait just a moment longer...

    James was galloping away on his horse, he knew the law would come soon enough and that after the heist at Franklin, he wouldn’t get out easy if if lollygagged. Nierva was starting to get winded. She hadn’t been able to get drink enough before the repainting of the floor at Crook’s Den. “It’s gonna be alright baby, we’ll stop here in just a minute,” James said coddling his horse before they reached a nearby Oasis. It wasn’t the typical palm tree lined Oasis, but instead was a rocky heap of different elevations. Stones and boulders littered the area around the small water pool, several red rock formations of arches and monolithic crags surrounded the pool, as a sort of ward of the life of the desert. Once running through twisting pathways through and down into the pool, James dismounted his horse and found a large rock thrusted upward into the sky to lean back on. James smiled as Nierva lapped up refreshing juice, and he began to roll a cigarette. Just as James put the cigarette up to his mouth a pang shot down from the distance knocking the smoke feet away from James.

    He looked up to see him, an Arizonan Ranger with one of those faggoty mustaches and a shit eating grin on his face. His face was thin and came into a V. He had wide brim hat with messy curls escaping from it like Medusa’s snakes. His body was slim and poised in cocky stance with the smoke from his freshly fired gun wafting off into the distance. James had but a split second to run, dashing from his comfortable rock and make a mad dash into a small inlet into the crags. Not one bullet was fired as he made his mad dash. James flashed a grin, and picked up a nearby stick. He wiggled in behind the rock to soon find it blown to smithereens. James chuckled to himself and darted around making his way up onto a ledge across from the stranger. Sitting behind a wall taking only peeks at the way too fancily dressed man he thought, “now’s my chance to wipe that grin off his face”. James leapt from behind the rock and sent a bullet flying towards the odd man. The stranger was too quick and lept down a level into the canyon. James now with height advantage strafed to get a better view as a bullet whizzed through the scarf around his neck. James taken aback rolled forward and lost his balance tumbling down the cliff face. Both James and the stranger were now one about 20 feet above the pool of water, they skated around the rim looking for the right time to take the shot. The Stranger leaped downward onto the land below, but not before landing a bullet inches away from James’ face. Simultaneously James fired a shot seemingly all the way through the man. James boasted with pride as he heard the body hit the canyon floor. “Well looks your life is over, I bet you still got that shiteating grin on your corpse.

    However to James’ dismay he hit nothing more than a cape. James not having any cover, slide down the rocks almost crashing into the same upward thrust rock as before. In James’ not brightest move he fired a shot in this unbalanced state. “two  at the top, one down here, that’s only 3 shots,” James recited to himself as he leapt from the rock catching the Stranger only ten feet away. Both fired two shots that nearly hit each other. One bullet did manage to graze the stranger’s arm. James stood up with the biggest smile on his face and the gun aimed towards the man. With a hard click James gloated saying, “Well mister it was nice knowing you, but here in the west bullets reign supreme and it looks like you dun run out.” James squeezed the trigger, expecting some sort of response from the man besides the same shit eating grin. *Click* the gun dry fired and James lost all of his cockiness. The man grinned harder, which James thought impossible and tackled him to the ground pounding into his face. James picked up some dust nearby and threw it into the man’s face before calling Nierva to knock him off. James leapt on his horse and flashed the man a bird before riding off once more.

“Next time you won’t be so lucky,” the stranger said with a dark voice.

    “Jason, you have been on this game so long already, come on your dad rented the new Flint Westwood movie for us to watch,” Mom says breaking my trance.

    “Oh okay mom, yeah just let me log out,” I stutter back to her. Well I guess that’s it for today, I’m sure to be back tomorrow.


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Gokuthealmightyone's Profile Picture
Jace Terry
United States
I just like to write things


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DamaiMikaz Featured By Owner Jun 23, 2016  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Hey Gokuthealmightyone! Welcome to DeviantArt :la:
Steve-the-Lucario Featured By Owner Jun 23, 2016  Student Digital Artist
Welcome to deviantart, I hope that you'll have a great time here! Llama Emoji-37 (Teehee) [V2]
halothekittycat Featured By Owner Jun 22, 2016  Student General Artist
Neko Emoji-41 - (Kawaii Waving) [V3] Panda Emoji-31 (Hello) [V2] Hello 
I came to say welcome to DA ^^
Hi Hope you like it here Bouncy Meow 

Stay-fresh and Groovy and most of all

pawesome ^^ I am a dummy! 
Gokuthealmightyone Featured By Owner Jun 22, 2016
Well thank you very much, that is very uplifting
halothekittycat Featured By Owner Jun 22, 2016  Student General Artist
Glad it was ^^
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