Mockingbird Mafia

We all know the Golden Rule...
                                       But how many of us actually live by it?

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Mockingbird Mafia

What you do, they do back.

~One girl. That one girl with those intense, bright blue eyes that pierce into your soul with one glance. Who is she? She's the sweet whistler. What happens next, you just hope isn't to you. So watch out, because those two short lines with that ever so tantalizing harmony might just cost you your sanity.~

Hush little deary, don't be rude

I'm gonna buy you a mockingbird

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Who'd Done It?

 DECEMBER 15, 2014, 3:48:25 A.M.
Alenstown, California

All was quiet in the small apartment complex of Kent's Creek Apartments. Not a single window had light seeping out. Everyone was asleep. All was normal.

Except for in apartment 14C, in  building F. There, the normality was about to be broken.

 And I get a thousand hugs, from ten million lightning bugs, as they try to teach me how to-

Groaning, a slim arm snaked through the heavy, warm comforters, through the dark, and slammed down onto the glowing smartphone, trapping it under long, slender claws, and slowly dragged it's catch back into the cavern within the mountain of blankets.

"Hyello?" a raspy voice grumbled lightly.

A computer responded. "Mrs. Sariana, you are called upon to report back to A.O.M. within the next two hours of receiving this call. You have been called back to the field," it beeped out.

The computer promptly hung up, leaving an ominous silence hanging still in the air. Slowly, a figure slid out of the layers of sheets and heat, groaning throughout, and promptly fell onto the floor with a loud thud. Only a silhouette of a human body could be seem in the room.

Five minutes later, a small, sleek car blended into the background of the night. It barely made a sound.

All was quiet again.

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DECEMBER 15, 2014, 3:48:26 A.M.

Mills-wood, California

Giggling could be heard seeping out from the cracks in the doorway in the second room down the hall, on the second story of house 96, Brigand Drive. Faint yellow light illuminated each corner of the house, including whatever was behind that cream colored door.

"And remember mission 68? Her face was so funny!" a sultry feminine voice laughed out into the night.

A deeper, masculine voice soon followed, chuckling. "I remember. That had been quite an evening to remember. Especially for her," it rumbled.

A nostalgic silence soon covered the room. 

"Do you miss her?" the female's voice asked cautiously.

Hesitating, the male soon answered in a hushed voice, "I do. Of course I do. But it was her choice. I wasn't going to stop her."

It was silent once more.

Suddenly, the loud ringing of a telephone shocked the surrounding area, jolting life back into the present.

Picking up, the girl asked, "Hello? Resident speaking."

The same computer voice from apartment 14C answered, "Mrs. Evans and Mr. Greyson, you are called upon to report back to A.O.M. within the next two hours of receiving this call. You have been called back to the field."

It promptly hung up. Within moments, rustling noises of paper cards and thick coats could be heard.

Moments later, a shiny white Benz and a gleaming silver convertible could be seen racing down the road, and far off to somewhere unknown.

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DECEMBER 15, 2014, 3:48:27 A.M.

A.O.M. California Headquarters

In an all pure white room, two gray clad figures sat patiently in two huge white chairs.

"So they've all been called?" said one figure.

"Yes, now, we wait," replied the other. "Now, we wait."

New Beginnings

        Sigh.

I drearily watched the soft, fuzzy gray clouds roll one after another across the cerulean blue sky. 

I sighed again.

The weather lately seemed to be contrary of itself constantly. One day, it would be pouring rain that soaked you to the bone, chilling cold, yet the sun would be smiling down at you in the exact same instant. Today was no exception. Low, heavy clouds forecasting almost certain showers, ice cold breezes that slithered into your sweaters, and cheerful, laughing bright skies with flowers and trees in full blossom. Fall, winter, summer and spring, all into one. Contrary. Just like me.

Sigh.

It seemed like so long ago that everything was perfect, or at least close enough to perfect. My friends were all together, all of us close as could be. No backstabbing. no drama, no me being the third wheel. And when we still talked. Unlike now.

Nope. Now, it's like I've been sucked into a parallel universe. One that made me feel vulnerable, psychotic, and ever so lost.

Now, I have no idea what I say, do, or not do. Now, I spend my nights awake, staring into the darkness, hearing words and thoughts echo over and over and over again, keeping me up even as I was asleep. I doubt every single thing I do. Every. Single. Thing. 

Sigh.

Brrrriiiiiinnnnng

Heaving out another silent sigh, I slowly bent down to pick up my overused, frayed, dusty old white and black checkered backpack, and slowly and steadily stood up from my seat and wandered out the classroom door. I barely registered the noise that whirred all around me, like bees in a hive. Three-hundred sixty degrees, I could here "Bye!", "Hey, wait up!", "Oh, my, GOSH!!! You will NOT believe what happened!", and "See you at the mall later!".

Foreign words that I used to remember.

Slinking down the hall against the wall, I moved toward the front doors at a snails pace. It was like I was in slow motion, watching everyone around me vanish, disappear, and leave as if watching a television program. One by one, people left, excited for the long week off right around the corner, only an hour or two away. Soon, I was the only one left.

It felt so alien to me, yet so familiar, this feeling of being alone. Hearing my own footsteps frightened me, but still sent pleasurable chills down my back. Home. Yet not home.

Contrary.

Why was it me who had to go relatively insane?

**Flashback**

"Hey! Arianne! Wait up!"

Grinning, I turned around to face my best friend in the entire world. But something stroke me as off. 

"'Sup girl! What's up?"

Another strike. Why was her face so different to me today?

"Well, actually, I came to say goodbye."

I was lost. She lived right next door to me? Why would she need to say goodbye? We saw each other every single day.

"What? Are you alright? We 're neighbors remember? You don't need to say bye to me. Did you hit your head or something?"

Another strike. Something was wrong today. Something was very wrong.

"Arianne. I'm not your neighbor anymore. I'm moving. Out of the country. For good."

Moving. Out of the country. For good. Those words echoed in my mind like the sound of gongs.

"W-what? Today? Now? Why? Huh???"

"I'm sorry. Goodbye Arianne. I'll miss you!"

With that, she turned and ran off, leaving me there frozen. Lost.

Pity. That's what had been off about her face today. She pitied me. She knew I would be lost without her. She knew. Yet she still left without hesitation.

**End Flashback**

That day had turned out to be the first of many that I despised. It had been the beginning to my downfall.

Following her move, my other friends soon began to exclude me, leaving me alone, in the bitter cold, friendless. All of my other classmates had been extremely nice to me, but it was always out of pity. I could hear there conversations about me. How poor and sad I was. 

It was what made me decide I didn't need them.

Afterwards, everything just fell apart even more. My best guy friend who I had known since childhood, probably the only one who I was just as close to as my friend who had moved away, began to distant himself from me. He stopped conversing with me, and after a month or two, we stopped talking all together. He began to hang out with his new, cooler friends, and seemingly forgot about me.

And I won't lie. It hurt. I felt even more lost after that.

Sighing again, I pushed open the heavy, freezing metal doors and flinched as a mix of warm and ice cold air was blasted into my face. Stopping, I took in my surroundings. Barely anyone was left in the school parking lot, and the few who were were all chatting casually with their friends, making plans for break no doubt. Occasionally, a car would rumble by with a happy whirring noise.

Once more, I felt lost. I didn't belong here. Not in this world. Not now, not e-

"Arianne."

His voice.

Turning slowly, I gazed at him. He'd grown taller than me now, but it was the same face from before we stopped talking. Hesitating, I opened my mouth gradually, but no sounds came out. 

Blinking, we just stared at each other.  Wind blew and clouds danced across the sky, but it was silent.

"Hey."

With that one word, it held in it a million emotions.

But most of all, it held light. Light that promised to lead me, begging me to forgive. Light for my darkness.

I smiled softly.

Maybe I did belong. And if I don't now, then I'll make myself belong.

This was a new beginning.

Nighten Mansion

Hey guys! So, I got this new idea for a series of short stories. Basically, it's about this strange mansion deep in the woods, called Nighten Mansion. It's abandoned, but at the same time, it's not. Very peculiar things happen in this mansion, but what exactly is going on? Read to find out!
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The Living Room Spirit(s)

             A living room. The place where most families use to relax. But not in Nighten Mansion. No, here, it was considered the elite room. The place where only the best could enter, and where the best happened. 

            The room itself was large and elegant. Not at all family friendly. In fact, it could be considered as a ball room instead of a living room. Pure cream and light, cloud gray swirls painted in the marble floor reflected images from the ceiling, and a glimmering 10 feet wide chandelier with glittering crystals that threw sparkles in every direction took up the bottom and the top of the room. Looking from the doorway coming in, a cozy, flickering red fireplace was snug in the far corner to the left, while an infinite number of mahogany wooden stairs spiraled up, up, up on the right. A light colored oak bookcase towered above the ground in the middle of the left wall. And, to top it off, a majestic, 42 feet long redwood table stretched across the center of the room. Real gold embellished it's edges, and fingerprint-less glass acting like mirror was pressed into the center of the wooden table top. A single, lone, velvet covered chair was seated at the far end of that table, giving the room a beautiful, but melancholic look.

            So what was so special about this room, besides its fancy furniture? Well, to know that, we would have to wait until the unseen grandfather clock strikes twelve.

         Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong!

And there it chimes. Twelve. Midnight. Time for magic to begin.

"Awwwwwwwwwwwww..." 

A petite girl yawned. She came out of seemingly nowhere, simple rising out on the marble tiles as if she was emerging from the water in a pool. 

"Well? When are you all coming out?" she asked to the empty room. 

She was, as mentioned before, a petite girl, only about 5 feet in height at most. She had long, sleek black hair that tumbled down past her waist, and sleepy light gray eyes, much like the gray in the marble. Her skin was pale and creamy, her lips a delicate pink. Yawning again, she arched her back and pulled back her arms, stretching out in a cat-like way.

Suddenly, bubbly giggles floated down from above. Glancing up, a skinny body was slowly being built by the many sparkles from the diamond chandelier.

"Always the subtle one, huh Maybelle?" sharp, but soft voice penetrated through the sparkles.
The pale girl smiled and mocked, "Always the giggly one, huh Chrys?"
A full figure had now emerged from the chandelier, and it certainly was a stunning one. It was a skinny, average height girl with glowing golden skin, pearly white teeth, cutting sky blue eyes, and golden strands of hair that floated around in waves down her back. She was perched delicately on the rim of the chandelier, grinning happily as she looked down to meet the marble like girl's eyes.
"Hey, are you really going to party without me?" a loud voice shouted.
Suddenly, a blur of brown slid down the stairway banister and landed on the marble floor with a satisfying thump.
"Stan! Took you long enough! Catch me!" Chrys yelled down, and promptly leaped down from the chandelier. Fortunately, she was caught by the arms of none other than the boy that was a blur before.
           The boy was tall and muscular, but not so much that he looked bulky. Messy, tousled, caramel hair and dark chocolate brown eyes were alive with mirth. A light brown tan dusted his skin, and smooth dark red lips were twisted into a smirk.
           "Good thing I caught, huh Chrys!" the boy laughed. She giggled as she delicately stepped toe first onto the ground, graceful as a swan. Leaning on one leg, the marble girl grinned along with them.
           "Yup! You're my own, personal Superman, Stan!" Chrys exclaimed. Her replies were loud guffaws from her two person audience.
           "Hyper, over-energetic people," a resonating, clear, loud, but at the same time, soft, rounded, and a little hoarse, slightly deep voice scoffed. The other three whirled around to see a dark, shadowy girl lazily lounging, with arms folded behind her head, on the magnificent redwood table. She had long legs and arms, and a tall, skinny, but not as skinny as the other two girls', figure. Shining red-brown hair was loosely twisted up and clipped with a large black clip, and one pitch black eyes was cracked open to gaze sharply at the three excited spirits. Her dark colored lips were expressionless, but if one looked closer, the right corner of her mouth was slightly twitched up. Her skin gleamed like the table, a pale golden color, tan but not tan. She was clad in a deep maroon button up with the long sleeves rolled up, black denim skinny jeans, and sleek umber, knee-high boots.
            Fully smirking now, she taunted, "What? Shocked to hear negativity, or just shocked by my entrance? I thought you knew I loved dramatic entrances!"
Finishing with a loud cackle, she leapt off the table and stalked over to the towering cream-yellow bookcase and gave it a light kick.
"Come on Bookworm, time to wake up and actually enjoy yourself!" she snapped, accenting each word with a slight slap. Soon, a coughing, dust covered boy stumbled and tripped out of the books face first, and landed at her feet.
"Finally, took you long enough," she muttered, spinning around to face the shadows dancing along the walls.
Still coughing, the skinny, pale boy picked himself up while mumbling, "Sorry, I was reading about Shakespeare and I lost track of time."
The girl just scoffed in reply.
Chrys giggled lightly, whispering, "Looks like Leanna missed Aden!"
The girl dressed in darkness, now named as Leanna, whirled around to sharply glare at the bubbly girl as the boy fumbled and toyed with the edge of his honey colored button up shirt. His light umber eyes were cast downward and his pale pink lips kept moving, but no sound came out.
"Please, as if I would miss him. He's nothing but a bookworm."
She promptly slid her gaze over Aden, and pretended not to notice his hurt expression.
Opening her mouth for a retort, Maybelle got cut off by Stan, who quickly interrupted to oncoming mini World War.
"Okay! So, what's up guys? Anything new?" he asked in a panicky voice.
Beaming, Aden opened his mouth and began saying, "Well, actually I just read about this really cool story about-"
"Next topic, bookworm!" Leanna cut in.
Pouting, Aden trudged over to the gleaming redwood table, and sat down next to Leanna.
The girl promptly slid her glance to the opposite direction, causing hushed giggles from Maybelle and Chrys.
Stan chuckled at the two spirits' typical antiques, and commented, "Well, what else is there to talk about? That I got a new coat of polish? Because I did, if you're wondering why I look so good."
He jokingly slicked back his hair and winked at the others.
"Oh please, like you could ever look as good as me, you set of logs. And no, nobody cares if you got a polish, because you look and stupid as ever," Leanna teased, and smirked widely, eliciting a chuckle from Stan, and a soft, unseen smile from Aden.

Lost Paradise: Room of Life

So, new story here! This story will be about a room with painted walls so lifelike that it is almost living, and a young girl who will find the room. To keep this short, and to not give away anything, I hope you enjoy it!

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178 Ridden Street, Gradden Town, New York. It was the average kind of house you would expect to find in a place like Gradden Town. Not truly countryside yet, but definitely not city style either. In-between, average, simple. The house was a gentle, soft, delicate baby blue with a pale, silky cream color accentuating the edges. It was two stories tall, with a one story tall section protruding out of the house. Dusty gray curtains with slightly darker shadow like imprints of flowers were drawn back at each of the long, tall windows that reached from the floor to the ceiling. The colors of spring, full of life, merged in with the vibrant, bold colors of fall in the garden surrounding the house. Birds hidden in bright green chatted about the latest on the grapevine while butterflies fluttered from the many, many, many groups of sweet smelling, eye catching flower bunches, greeting each one one with an open embrace. Honey bees buzzed in circles around the yard, humming cheerful tunes to themselves. There wasn't a garage.

Outside of this isolated paradise was a completely different story. The ominous dark, dark gray clouds hung low and damp above people’s heads. Their feet trudged, leaving scrapes that all lead toward the center of the town, where all the towering buildings were. Specifically, the hospital. The town’s most prominent, most charismatic, most loved artist had finally lost light in her eyes. Not even glasses could help her see now. Sure, they all knew that that day had been coming. It had always been there, a terrible, terrible reminder that left a bitter taste in their mouths. They all tried to forget it, and for moments, they had, but one glance at the desk and the post-it note with all their reminders would shove all of the depressing thoughts into their head again.

Marianne Leanna. Pen-name, Lea. She always had preferred that name. No one knew her last name. As the crowd surged wave after wave towards the doctors and her room in the hospital, like the tide beating down again and again on the rocks on a beach, the doctors tried to be heard. But even with such chaos and noise, the message had gotten through. The town’s precious little Lea was officially blind. That last, earth’s core hot fever she had gotten last week seemed to have taken away her eyesight for good. Born with a wavering eyesight, by the time their Lea had reached the tender, ripe age of 21, just when her popularity reached infinity and beyond, her eyesight had been slowly fading. Then, to add to the trouble, her long, countless hours working in secret, on what the townspeople thought would become her greatest masterpiece, in her studio full of chemically filled air caused her immunity to fevers to decline. Thus, here they were now, with a blind master artist and a suddenly dead silent town.

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Whhrrrmp-phmp-phmp-phmp, Whhrrrmp-phmp-phmp-phmp
The rhythmic whir, thump, and cranking noise of an old, worn down car steadily grew louder and louder to the sharpened ears of the blind girl who was occasionally sipping lukewarm hot chocolate while sitting, still as a marble statue, on a golden yellow, wooden porch swing. The birds hopped and the butterflies fluttered about her, but, sadly, their efforts for attention were a failure.

Whhrrrmp-phmp-phmp-phmp, Whhrrrmp-phmp-phmp
The noise was abruptly cut off by a loud, piercing slam of the car passenger side door. A cheerful "Bye Sam!" followed shortly after.
Whhrrrmp-phmp-phmp-phmp, Whhrrrmp-phmp-phmp-phmp
Once more, the car revived its song and trailed away, leaving nothing but the faint smell of car exhaust behind it.

Racing as fast as she could while dragging a bag half her size and a backpack on her that ended almost to her knees, a petite 11 year-old girl ran towards the swing.


"Aunt Lea! Aunt Lea!"

The young girl raced, nearly tripped, and jumped with a loud, echoing THUMP onto the wooden porch. The oak tree boards, long dark and bent from years of use, creaked and moaned in protest of the sudden impact.

The older girl calmly turned her head towards the location of the noise, gazing a cool, calm, empty stare in the vague direction. Smiling softly, she shifted on the swing and patted, with her empty hand the newly cleared space. Beaming happily, the younger girl plopped down and twisted her head to face the older girl, who was once more silently sipping her drink.

Laughing at the energetic young-ling, the older one calmly greeted, "Hello Evangelica. Isn't today a beautiful day?"

A small, sad smile suddenly replaced her grin as she replied, "Yes Aunt Lea. It is. The birds are gossiping again today, and the butterflies are up and about."

Sipping her drink, Lea nodded. "Tell me, Eve, what color is the sky today?" With a sad smile, the child replied, "Oh, it's a luxurious shade of bright blue Aunt Lea. It's one of your favorite blues. The kind that's energetic, but calm, smooth and flowing, and very bold." Nodding again in satisfaction, the older girl slowly got up, and started heading towards the front door. Evangelica immediately jumped to her feet and opened the door for her.

The Shadow Thief

Loud, raspy panting could be heard echoing down the dark, narrow ally. Suddenly it stopped, and a few seconds later, gravel shifting could be heard, then, silence once again. About half and hour later, the town's guards, almost 15 of them, stopped right at the beginning of the ally.
"Where could it have ran?"
"They couldn't have gotten that far."
"We need to keep looking!"
"It's too late. The Unmasked Bandit got away again."
Mutters of hate could be heard as the guards shuffled back to their fancy mansion homes for the night.
Far off in the distance, twelve metallic chimes could be heard as the town clock tower struck midnight.
The unseen shadow that had been in the ally much earlier was already gone, on the hidden paths towards the next town in the kingdom.
The Shadow had struck, and left again, leaving nothing but a basket of steaming bread rolls, fresh fruit, and a few strips of leather at the back step of each poor, run-down, leaning, broken shed of a house near the edges of town.

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All was quiet in the majestic castle like mansion at the edge of the grassy meadow hills. Glass and gold glittered in the blood red sun, bathing the view of the town's richer side in streaks of light pink, bright orange, and delicate lavender. Sighing, a young man turned away from the painting of a view to face the dreary, grey, desolate living room. Ruffling a hand through his chocolate colored hair, he sighed again.

This young man, 19 years in age, looked nothing of the proud aristocrat as he should currently. His attire was wrinkled and loose, his hair freshly mussed, and his eyes bloodshot. His sky blue shirt was kept one button open, and his crisp silk vest long thrown carelessly onto one of the many velvet couches positioned around the silver room. Collapsing on top of one of these couches, the young man scandalously propped his feet up onto the pure glass and gold coffee table.

"Mother and father won't be back until next month, again. You're on your own now, Alexander," he thought. Closing his eyes, he gradually nodded off into a light slumber.

A few meters away, in the exact same mansion, a sliver of a shadow was soundlessly prying open one of the many glass windows from the outside wall of the mansion. With a satisfying small click, the shadow promptly slid into the mansion through the barely open window, and vanished from sight.

Still drifting in and out of consciousness, the young man was jolted awake in shock from the telltale clink of wine glass meeting. Tense, he silently got up from the couch and stalked towards the noise.

Meanwhile, the shadow was gathering items in the kitchen, shifting items out of place, then returning them so one could never notice it was ever touched in the first place.

Alexander cautiously peered around the corner. The clinks had gotten more frequent, and he had been led to the kitchen. Glancing into the kitchen, his heart nearly stopped at what the sight which fell upon his eyes. It was a young lady, girl even, dressed quite informally, sifting through the kitchen. She seemed to grab any food she stumbled across, and blindly took a few smaller trinkets. She was slowly filling up a worn leather pouch which hung from her belt. She was decked in dirty, dusty clothes that hung from her thin but healthy frame. Strange as she already was, even stranger was the way her clothes were designed. She seemed to be wearing clothes a young gamin boy would wear, except it was crossed with the designs of a rich man's clothes. Gasping, he caught her attention. Whirling her head around, they both froze. Her sharp green eyes met his soft brown ones. Neither the robber nor the rich man moved. Time stood still.

Suddenly, the moment was broken as the thief quickly moved for the window. The young man immediately grabbed her arm, and she took a sharp intake of breath.

In a low voice, he whispered, "Wait. Who are you, and why are stealing from our house?"

Wordlessly, she effortlessly slipped her arm out of his grasped and slid through the window, only pausing halfway to answer curtly, "And they shall drown in the lake of their sins."

The shadow disappeared once more, leaving behind no trace behind but a puzzled young man in the newly turned night.

Letting Go

She gave up. She gave up a long time ago. She just, let go of the ledge. After all, what was the point of holding on if she couldn't be saved anyways? She wasn't stupid. No, she knew that no one could pull her back up. She knew that she couldn't get back up. But they all told her to hang on for just a little longer. They screamed at her to hold on, to stay strong just a little longer. But she just laughed and gave a weak grin. No, she wasn't going to lie to herself. No, no, no. No. No. No. So, she just, let go. Let go. Let go.

Her heart was about to burst. She wanted to cry, to scream her heart out, to yell to the world of the unfairness of it all. How it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that she, of all people, got stuck with the weight of the world on her shoulders. It wasn't fair that she, of all people, had to go through so, so, so much. It was really just plain ridiculous.

As she fell, time slowed. Things stilled. She blanked her mind. She faintly remembers the times when she was carefree, not a worry in the world. When she laughed out loud, with real joy. When she thought the world was the best place ever. When she didn't know the evils of the world. When she dreamed of dancing in the rain. When she was a child. Then, the dark days came. This, she remembers so, oh so clearly. The friendships ruined, the backstabbing, the rumors, the bullying, the tears. It was then, she thinks, that she lost her grip on the world. On her life.It was then that the rain started falling. But she wasn't dancing. Not this time. And not anymore.

Then, came that perfect time. That break between the first set of thunder clouds, and the looming ominous pitch black bundle off in the distance. Those sweet rays of light she never thought she would see again. During that golden period came new friends. Ones that seemed to be the very best friends she had been searching for her whole life. Those sweet new moments of pure happiness.

But, alas, everything eventually comes to an end, doesn't it? The new storm rolled in. And there went her rays of light. 

At some point during the latest storm, she slipped on the once light green grass, muddy brown and drenched with salty water, and there she was, hanging on that ledge. 

So here she was, falling. Letting go. And, for some strange reason, she smiled. Oh, yes, she gently smiled to the sky, to the now blue sky, and whispered the the winds "I let go".

"I Had to Let Go."

Built on Beliefs

The world is built upon opinions. No kidding. I mean, why is color called color? Why is black a dark color? What counts as an A or a B? Everything is made up from opinions. It may be a widespread opinion, but it's still what it is. For instance, they say it's a fact that a circle is round. But truly, isn't that an opinion as well? Maybe, to someone else it is not round, maybe they consider it so be triangular. Facts are opinions. They're just widespread, common opinions. Which brings me to my point that the world is based on opinion. And, truly, it is ridiculous. People accuse others of being strange, or different, when really, isn't that also their opinion? So, what I'm saying, to save you all from my endless rant, is that, consider it really, even though I'm kind of being a hypocrite about opinions here, but try to stay neutral. What you consider neutral to be, I won't judge, but either way, watch and see just how much opinions circulate our planet.
To sign off this paradoxical, hypocritical, opinionated rant,
                                   -LaMusicFreak