-icallbullshit-

taken from here

i hope he makes me eat my words when i think this is bullshit.

maybe they'll offer... 2 scholarships. LOL.

-throw-

losing everything in the wind.

that's what it feels like.

and in the end, knowing that it's your own fault that you built everything in the wind.

rather than putting it in a shelter.

even cavemen can learn.

sigh.

-LOL-

unashamedly copied from aidan's blog.

Taib and George Chan are on a helicopter flying above Kuching.
George Chan: If I throw down 100 RM100 notes, 100 people in Kuching will he happy.
Taib: If I throw down 1000 RM10 notes, 1000 people in Kuching will be happy.
Pilot: If I throw both of you down, 2.3 million people in Sarawak will be happy.

LOL.

-thegunslinger-

inspiration -



---

Hiding behind a wagon, he listened to the ground around him soak up the neverending ringing of bullets.

Coolly, he dumped his magazine and filled it up one bullet at a time - as he was trained to do for as long as he could remember.

And Roland could remember the time he was 3 and his dog died.

With that thought far away, he breathed out again. He started counting shells.

There was always a pause as they had to reload, and Roland slowly counted each gun one by one.

1... 2.... 1... 3... 2... 1.... 4... 3.. 2... 3...

He counted 5 people.

His head began to ache at the exercise, and so he breathed out again to find his centre.

He closed his eyes and pictured his mentor, Cort the Gunslinger.

I do not aim with my hand;
He who aims with his hand has forgotten the face of his father.
I aim with my eye.

I do not shoot with my hand;
He who shoots with his hand has forgotten the face of his father.
I shoot with my mind.

I do not kill with my gun;
He who kills with his gun has forgotten the face of his father.
I kill with my heart.

Chuckling, Roland held his sandalwood grips tightly in the hollow of his right shoulder.

Suddenly, the shooting stopped.

"Gunslinger! Hear us!"

Roland, intrigued by the turn of events, stayed silent.

"We are sure you do not wish to die here. So we propose a barter. The guns you possess - made by the very sword of Excalibur, we shall trade them for your life. What say you sai?"

Roland lost his curiosity and shouted in reply, "I ONLY DEAL IN DEATH."

Jumping up from behind the wagon, he lifted his left hand and blew the speaker's head off.

Immediately he took in the scene, and mapped out their locations in his mind's eye.

Two on the roof, one on either side, one behind Took's water barrel and the other behind the steps of Mia's home.

He quickly rolled to the right, as the air started to light up with gunfire again. Ducking for cover, he threw his arm out and fired blindly into where he expected the roof top man to be.

He did not miss.

The other three, wary and more cautious now decided to break for cover.

Exactly what he expected them to do.

He jumped out of his spot, and focused his eyes on nothing in general.

Suddenly, a very minute movement came into his vision and his right hand whipped up and fired another shot.

In agony, the other roof top man clutched his face and started screaming.

Roland shot him twice more, and the dying man was dead.

"My name is Roland Deschain, son of Steven, of the line of Arthur Eld. The last gunslinger."

Seeking to interrupt him, the man behind the water barrel popped up. Before he could speak or shoot, his brain was lying splattered on the floor.

The last man suddenly shouted, "I SURRENDER I SURRENDER"

Roland stared into space nonchalantly as the mans arms came up first, as his weapon was thrown far from him.

The man stood up and turned to face Roland. The piercing blue eyes frightened him, and it was almost as if the faces of every person he had killed were in those eyes.

"Please, i beg you-sai, let me go."

Roland gave him a hard look and sighed.

"Go."

TO BE CONTINUED