Saturday, December 29, 2007

Here comes another one

I really like the Star Wars universe. The whole idealogy of the people are just perfect. The prequel trilogy more-so than the original. The worlds are just so much more vivid. The atmosphere more serene. The fights are grander in scale and just plain magical. And the force; the force is what makes Star Wars. The chosen one's struggle against himself. The betrayels he faced, the lies he was told, the power he had. Throughout the movies I wanted him to see what he was doing to himself. I wanted him to just fall before Obi-Wan, or anyone for that matter, and repent for the evils he caused. To just submit his will to the light and be rid of the dark side.

Even as Emporer Palpatine was fighting with Mace, I wanted Anakin to just slice off that devil's head. Even after Windu was murdered, he could have stopped at any time. All for the promise to keep his love eternally. I only wish he knew that power was outside the grasp of the dark side. If only he knew Qui-Gon had learned what he was fighting so hard for. The story of Anakin Skywalker is one of the most tragic I've ever heard.

Immaculatly conceived, the chosen one, the one to bring balance to the force. What time of peace could he have brought to the galaxy? He could have had the power he wanted, while staying on the light side. If only he wasn't a scared little boy, if only he wasn't so rash.


I think I'm going to start writing short stories and just go with whatever style suits me when I start. Maybe I'll write a few in a japanese setting, a few in the star wars universe, maybe some from a futuristic landscape and some from an age long past. Each story can be whatever length makes it work. Maybe I'll write a one page story to bring a certain setting to light. Maybe later I'll use that setting to write a longer piece. Just record fragments as they come to me and let them be free no matter what they are. If I copy an entire story from another longer piece, it will be my portrayel of how I perceived it, as well as allowing me to practice my form on a familiar piece. Almost like how we had to write papers for book in high school, only this time I rewrite the story in my own words instead of talking about how the story moved me.

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