Messages

 No, seriously, what happens? Don't dodge the question... :ph34r:  

 
Why, whats wrong with water and Ad? Hmmm. Moving on.
The wierdest conversation I had was with myself on AIM. Put your name on your own buddylist, then start a chat. It goes like this:
mudmanpat54448 (9:41:58 AM):  Hey
mudmanpat54448 (9:41:58 AM): Hey
mudmanpat54448 (9:42:02 AM): Watsup?
mudmanpat54448 (9:42:02 AM): Watsup?
mudmanpat54448 (9:42:07 AM): NM, U?
mudmanpat54448 (9:42:08 AM): NM, U?
mudmanpat54448 (9:42:13 AM): Same here...
mudmanpat54448 (9:42:13 AM): Same here...
mudmanpat54448 (9:42:17 AM): Yeh...
mudmanpat54448 (9:42:17 AM): Yeh...
mudmanpat54448 (9:42:21 AM): hmmm...
mudmanpat54448 (9:42:21 AM): hmmm...
mudmanpat54448 (9:42:31 AM): hey i g2g
mudmanpat54448 (9:42:31 AM): hey i g2g
mudmanpat54448 (9:42:37 AM): jah love mon
mudmanpat54448 (9:42:37 AM): jah love mon
mudmanpat54448 (9:42:39 AM): bye
mudmanpat54448 (9:42:40 AM): bye
yes. very interesting. hmmm. second wierdest conversation I had was with my english teacher on the subject of the Improbability Drive in the book A Hitchhiker's Guide to the Universe...

 TR, I don't think you understand the concept...its the Destruction Force out to DESTROY CBLA. It's not a branch off of th CBLA bent on destruction...GAAA! But if you want to be a hypocrit, go ahead and lead... <_<  

 Mark, you're guess is as good as mine...i think that they're all part of some evil mind-meld plot to take over the universe...
Lets start a CBLADF Care Bears Liberation Army Destruction Force :D
Who wants to lead...?

 John that was hands down the wierdest thing i have ever seen in my life...TR, tell us why you don't like it and i'm (pretty) sure he will take it down...

 I feel as though almost everybody at Warlords is becoming bored. You know, drifting, growing up, finding other things to do. I am myself. It is quite sad, really, because soon everyone who mattered will be gone, and a new generation will begin. The names 'Menatus' or 'Ereptor', even the notorius 'Josh' will fall into the deep hole of forget...sigh...it just gives you that tug-at-your heart feeling that, well, tugs at your heart. Yes, those who DO care will shout from the rooftops, yelling and screaming at the top of their lungs, but theirs voices will be gone...gone with the wind...*chuckles at clever allusion*

On a happier note, the next two chapters of my scifi story are coming soon, you can find the first couple on page four of this forum.

 o...dear...God...this is the future of the world...we're all going to starve...truly this generation is horrible...save us all.... :(  :(
I KNOW! I'LL HIDE FROM YOU WIERD PEOPLE! *officially goes into hiding via black hooded smiley* :ph34r:  

 attention span...watsat? hmm. i don't have one. i drank coffee from a can this morning but it tasted like hot cocoa and it was yummy and now i  dont have anything to do and i got rejected today but im still married. breathe.
yumyumyum. popcorn. ok peeplez, read the story even if you dont have the 'tentions pan (sic) to. cuz its rilly good. yeh. popcorn. yumyumyum.  

 okay. last time i posted a really long thingy (read: my english essay) for you guys to mull over, it got no reponse. but i will try again. as you may know, i have way too much time on my hands. so i started a story. scifi. no title, not finished. tell me how you like it. please don't just ignore me again...sniff :(
Chapter One

Amar stepped out into the cold October night, hunched up against the driving rain. He hailed a hovercab, its robot driver clicked and whirred as he punched his address into the computer. Smiling, he thought back to the day?s battle. Amar had chosen to be a hawkman today, grabbing his bow off of his weapon rack. He had dressed in his usual nightsuit, wings protruding from the small slits in the back. Hawkmen were fun. Amar loved the freedom of flying; he had soared high today, picking off the punks below him as a child with a stungun picks off birds. He laughed. Today?s punks were especially easy, they didn?t know where the arrows were coming from. Walking out, one of their number had suddenly been cut down by a shot like a lightening bolt, ripped before he knew what hit him. Two more went before the punks had found cover, an old, rusted bunker overgrown with slikon bushes. Amar knew the bunker well, having hidden in it numerous times while fighting the big boys of his youth. He had circled around back, ripping another three while they searched the landscape for the cause of their annoyance. The last two had pulled out force guns, sending bolts of highly charged energy into everything that moved. Amar had landed behind them, calmly drawing an ion dagger and plunging it into the backs of each. When he flipped out, the punks were in the riproom, shooting hateful looks in his direction. He checked the scoreboard, seeing another eight kills rack up under his name.
   A click and a whir from the robodriver kicked him back to reality. The cab had arrived at his house. He paid it, watching it zip into the darkness in search of another patron. Amar fumbled with his key, opened the door and slipped quietly inside. Sheba was asleep on the couch, a bag of chips and a beer on the table beside her. Bundling her up in his arms, he walked upstairs and laid her gently on the bed. He got in his pajamas and crawled in beside her, silently as not to wake her. Sheba turned and smiled sleepily at him.
   ?How was the arena?? she mumbled.
   ?Great. Got eight kids down with the bow. You shoulda seen the looks on their faces when I came back from the simroom?.? He trailed off; she had snuggled up beside him and fallen asleep. He sighed, checking the holoclock. 12:00 midnight. He was late. He let himself fall into a deep slumber, dreams of the arena chasing around his head.
   When he woke up the next morning, she was beside him, sipping coffee and watching the sun rise. He got up and put his arm around her.
   ?Sorry I was late. Full day yesterday. Six battles, three one-on-ones. Full day. Where?s the coffee??
   She pointed him in the right direction, smiled and went to work. He decided against the coffee, crawling back into bed instead.
   The phone woke him two hours later. He rolled over and grabbed at it. It slipped out of his hand, crashing onto the floor. He cursed under his breath and fumbled blindly for the receiver.
   ??Lo??
   ?Hey, Mar-mon! Thought you?d never get up. Gonna come down today? Gotcha lined up with this Asian ninja guy, thinks he?s all great and stuff. Thought maybe you?d come down and show ?im some real talent. Got yer ninja stuff all lined up, virtua-chucks, blow darts, the works. Well? C?mon, up an at ?em! Carpe Diem! Seize the day!?
   ?Hey Shiz, man, ya know, I?m not feelin too good t?day. Think you could tell this ninja guy t?morrow? Get Ace to do ?im. Ace ain?t seen the inside of a headset fer a coupla weeks. How bout he earns his paycheck fer a change? C?mon Shiz, I really feel like a loada elephant dung. C?mon, gimme a day off.?
   Silence on the other end, as if Shiz was thinking about it. Amar knew better though, Shiz didn?t force people to do things. Besides, he knew if he made Amar mad Amar would quit, and Shiz was hard pressed for fighters as it was.
   ?Aight. Aight, ya twisted my arm. I?ll let Ace do the ninja guy, maybe you can come t?morrow and see how it went. Hope ya feel better. Get some a those new meds, aaaah, ya know the ones. Make you feel like a mad hatter soon as ya take ?em. Ya know the ones??
   ?Yeah, Shiz, I know. I got some right now. See ya, tell Ace I said good luck an? all. See ya Shiz. Lemme get some sleep.?
   He hung up and went back to sleep.
   He woke up when Sheba came home, slamming the door and calling his name. Sheba was always mad when she came home; she worked with this idiot guy who always tried to hit on her and was a real nutter when it came to work. Left flowers on her desk and stuff like that. Really an idiot. Amar yelled down that he was asleep. She yelled back up something about how could he be asleep if he was awake enough to tell her he was asleep.
   He went back to sleep.
   He woke up to her face in his, telling him to come down to dinner ?cuz it was getting cold. She seemed to have simmered down, he gave he a quick kiss and rolled out of bed and into his clothes. They walked down together, said grace and ate. Sheba was the best cook in the world, tonight it was chili and rice. He liked his chili spicy, and she had made it perfectly. Dipping a cracker in his chili, he asked her how her day was.
   ?Oh, ya know. Gram gave me a daisy, asked me to marry him, I told him ?Shuttup and get back to work? an? stuff like that. Really, you should come talk to him, he doesn?t even know I married. Maybe you could fight him, he?s always braggin? bout how he?s the best fighter in the city, take anyone on an? whup ?em in the arena, he says. Drink your milk, it?s good for you.?
   He smiled as he cleared the table.
   ?Yes, Mother.?
   She belted him with a pillow. He threw it back. He loved pillow fighting, and always let her win. She buffeted him with a couch cushion and chased him around the living room, yelling ?Drink your milk you naughty boy!? He laughed.
   ?Oh, no! Bedtime. G?night.?
   He went to sleep, feeling much better than he had in the morning.  







Chapter Two

   Next day, Amar was ready to go back to work. As he rode the hoverbus to the arena, he mused over how unusual his job was. He remembered history lessons in school about ancient gladiators who fought slaves in huge coliseums. His job was a lot like that. He was a hired cyberfighter; he was also the best. The arena was actually just virtual reality, but every time he strapped himself into the simroom and slapped on his trobes, it became real. He was a gladiator, fighting for his life in a huge coliseum, whoever he fought that day was the slave. Sometimes they sent lots of fighters at him at once, but he ripped them all. Amar himself had only been ripped once, when he was just an amateur fighter. A big Irish guy simming as a leprechaun had snuck up behind him and slammed him with an electra-spear in the back. Getting ripped didn?t feel good. You were jerked out of the arena and thrown into the riproom, where you stayed until your opponent flipped out. Getting jerked out of the arena was a sickening experience, somewhat akin to going on one of the old roller coasters in the museums. Your stomach would plunge down to your bowels, your heart would hit your stomach with a thud, and you?d get flipped like a pancake into the riproom. After the Irish guy got him, Amar learned and never got ripped again.
   Shiz greeted him at the door as he got off of the hoverbus. Ace was next to Shiz, looking really tired. He probably just got ripped a few too many times yesterday.
   ?Hey, Mar-Mon! Where ya been? Ya know that Asian ninja kid, been waitin for ya a long time. Ripped Ace pretty good, didn?e Ace??
   Ace nodded in Amar?s direction, then headed off to the bathroom.
   ?Hahahaha! Yeah, Mar, you?re gonna be pretty hard pressed ta get this kid. Reflexes like a tiger, he?s got. And sneaky too. Well, enough wid the chitchat. Lets get you strapped in, eh??
   They went down a long hallway into a room filled with amateurs practicing in the arcades. Passing the reception desk, they found Amar?s simroom, number 15. Amar looked over his creature choices. Hawkmen were good, but if this ninja was as good as they said he was, Amar?d get shot out of the air in a flash. The added abilities that came with being a ninja were nice. Maybe ninja. He might be a centaur, but didn?t feel like it today. Wizard?too weak. Soldier?too slow. SWAT team?now there was an idea. SWAT team sims were great, you could go underwater, camouflage, see in the dark?Amar unhooked the SWAT chip from the wall.
   Amar wandered over to the weapon rack. He grabbed some standard stun grenades, two 9 mm force guns, a sniper rifle, and a long sword, just in case things got nasty. Grabbing extra ammo, he strapped in.
   Shiz came over. ?Hey Mar, ya fergot the ion daggers. Here.?
   Amar accepted them with a nod and slapped his trobes on. He took a deep breath.
   ?Flip me.?

   Amar materialized in a large forest at the edge of a clearing. He immediately recognized the setting the ninja had chosen. Simscape 53F. Probably one of the hardest simscapes, if you were the attacker. The defender had a nice broken down treehouse to camp in, on top of a big hill, overlooking everything. Amar threw himself to the ground, finding the nearest tall tree and scrambling up it. He took out his binos, scanning the area for any sign of the Asian. Finding none, he looked up at the treehouse. Sure enough, there he was, crouching between broken wallboards. The ninja had what looked like a high-powered lightening bow, an old samurai sword, and a few ion daggers in evidence.
   Amar chose his plan of attack carefully. He strapped a grenade launcher onto the sniper rifle, shoving a stun grenade into the magazine. He fired just to the right of the treehouse, somewhat down on the hill. The ninja did exactly what he expected.
   Scrambling down from the tree, Amar sprinted for the bushes on the far end of the clearing. He fell into a roll as an arrow thudded into a tree next to him. Several more followed, one grazing his back. Crouched low in the bushes now, he watched for any sign of movement from the treehouse. None. Amar smiled; his plan had worked perfectly. The ninja was probably hidden in the forest to the right. He bellied down against the dirt, crawling towards the hill. He could imagine the ninja?s dismay when he found that Amar wasn?t in the forest where it looked like the grenade came from.
   Still drunk with his victory, he didn?t notice the Asian until he was almost on top of him. The samurai sword slammed into the earth a hairsbreadth from his head. He rolled, snatching the long sword from its sheath. Turning, he found the ninja in a crouch, sword point flicking and darting around for an opening in his defenses. He circled, the Asian followed. Thrust, parry, duck. The ninja knew what he was doing. Amar grabbed an ion dagger, flipping it around so he was holding the blade, ready to throw. The ninja laughed. Jumping high in the air, the turned and landed behind Amar. Seeing his chance, Amar threw a stun grenade straight at him, catching him in the stomach in mid-flip. Knowing the ninja just had his breath knocked out, he rammed the long sword home beneath his ribs, up into the heart. The ninja dematerialized and Amar was left alone in the arena. He flipped out.
   Shiz was waiting when he got back.
   ?Hey Mar, that was an awesome fight! Ya shoulda seen the viewer ratings soar; they loved it! Pretty close one there. Amateurs were gasping from the suspense back in the arcade room. Great job, man, maybe you?ll get a raise fer that!?
   Amar nodded, wiping sweat off of his brow. All he wanted now was a shower and a bed.
   ?Where?s the Asian??
   The ninja stepped into the simroom, a look of pure delight in his eyes. Amar didn?t understand. He just got ripped. He was a loser. He should?ve been pouting and punching things, not grinning like a June bug-in-a-rug.
   ?Good fight,? the ninja said with a thick Japanese accent. ?Maybe you be ready to fight Master. Practice hard and maybe win. Good fight.? He bowed and left. Amar stared at Shiz.
   ?What the-?
   Shiz shrugged and left. Amar took a shower.  
   After his shower, he was lined up with a group of amateurs who thought they could overwhelm him with numbers. He chose a Hawkman sim again, and picked them off with the sniper rifle without even breaking a sweat. Still shaken from his fight with the ninja, he went home and slept.




Chapter Three

   When he woke up, Sheba was sitting on the couch at his feet watching the holovis. He poked her with his toe; she tickled him back. She grinned.
   ?Dinner?s ready, ya big lug. Made some tacos. Got this new deal at the grocery; buy the meat, get the shells. Good deal. Well, ya wanna come eat, or just lay there growing mold, my sleeping beauty??
   He nodded. Tacos were good. He liked tacos. She had lemonade set out, he poured himself a glass and sat down. She looked at him from across the table while picking at her taco.
   ?I saw your fight on the holovis. Tough nut, that ninja. He hadn?t lost until you got him. Nope. They had the scores right there ? he had like a coupla hundred kills, no dies. Announcer said he was the best. Stupid announcer, said you were gonna get whipped. I guess he never saw you before. You shoulda heard his voice when you won. He was like ?That?s the first time in history a member of the Chinese Triad clan has fallen! This guy is on fire!? an? stuff like that. You must be pretty good.? She smiled.
   Amar felt sick to his stomach. The Chinese Triad was the most dangerous cyber-clan in the world. They had been known to send electrical impulses through the trobes to fry their opponent?s brains. Being on the wrong side of them wasn?t good. Not at all. He excused himself after his first taco to call Shiz.
   Shiz picked up after the first ring.
   ?Hello, Shiz here.?
   ?Hey Shiz. Ya know that guy? Do you know who he was? Do you know what the devil I just got myself into??
   ?Cool down and talk sense, Mar-mon. What guy? Who was he??
   Amar took a deep breath, talking slowly. ?The Asian ninja. He?s a member of the Chinese Triad. I beat him. They?re the ones that-?
   ?Yeah, I know what they do. Oh man. Oh man. What?re we gonna do? Well, they can?t do anything to you just yet. Come to work tomorrow, I?ll make sure nothin? happens. You?re gonna be all right.?
   ?Yeah. Yeah sure Shiz. See ya.?
   He hung up. Massaging his temples, he sat back down at the table and smiled at Sheba.

   Amar didn?t sleep well. He kept having visions of the Asian ninja at a computer, pressing a button and frying his brain. Not a very comforting thought. He woke from a light sleep when Sheba slammed the door shut on her way to work. Checking the holoclock, he found that he was late for work. Groaning and scrambling about, he got ready for work and hailed a hovercab.
   The robodriver of the cab turned and clicked as he entered. He keyed in the arena?s address. The driver nodded and zipped towards the arena. When he arrived, he paid the cab and thanked it. (A useless measure of kindness, as the drivers themselves didn?t know how to talk, and the cabs were just cars.) As he was leaving, the driver made a strange noise. He turned back.
   It was blinking and whirring rapidly, with its head tilted quizzically to the left as if trying to comprehend something.
   ?Naaaararh,? it groaned, then blinked.
   Amar stared. The thing suddenly stopped whirring, and said one word. Quite clearly, really, for a robot that?d never spoken before, if somewhat in a metallic voice.
   ?Amar.?
   The thing suddenly shook itself a shot off down the street. Amar stared after it.

   As he stormed his way past the practice arcade, Amar noticed something very unusual. Every screen had his battle with the ninja playing, over and over. There was a mechanic in the corner trying to fix the problem, and all of the amateurs just kept watching the fight as if each time was their first time watching it. He shook himself. This was weird. He checked in at the desk, smiling at the secretary, and walked into his simroom. There was a note on the table.
   ?Mar-mon;
      Hey man it?s Shiz. Gotcha lined up with a group of New Age monks, tryin? fer wizards and mumblin the whole time, they were. Strange bunch. They got the wizards they wanted, so watch out fer the spells. Oh and you got an ally today. Name?s Burt. Don?t know him, he just wanted to fight with you. Well, see ya after the fight.
                           Shiz?
   Amar looked up and saw Burt relaxing on the couch, sipping what looked like orange juice. He walked over and poured himself a glass, nodded at Burt, and swigged it. That was good orange juice. He poured another and sat down.
   ?So Shiz says you?re gonna be my man today. You any good??
   Burt grinned and nodded. ?Thass? right. I?m ya man. I?m bettah than mos? these punks, but ya know. I?m okay.? His voice was soft and mellow, very quiet too.
   Amar finished his orange juice and got up. He went over to his creature rack, flipping through the chips to find one he liked.
   ?So ya gonna be usin? my creatures, or you got yer own? How ?bout weapons??
   Burt strolled over to a large wardrobe hovering in the far corner of the room and flipped it open. Inside was a creature chip that Amar had never seen before, along with an assortment of stun guns, ion daggers, and other weaponry.
   Burt noticed him looking at the chip.
   ?I won it in a tournament at Ireland. It?s a Flinmar. Weird one, really. All gray, looks kind of catlike. Very quick. Chameleon effect. But the best part is it?s eyes. You can do things like zoom, see through walls, and shoot lase-shots. Really fun. I?ll duplicate it for you if we win. C?mon, lets get going.?
   Amar grinned and turned back to his creature rack. He chose a tigras, a being like a tiger and a human rolled into one. Grabbing a spear, daggers, a force pistol and his bow and arrows set, he lay down on the couch and waited for Burt to finish up.
   Burt grabbed the Flinmar and an assortment of weapons. He strapped himself into the ally chair and looked at Amar. Amar strapped in, slapped on the trobes, and flipped.

   He materialized in a huge desert simscape, either 23C or 48B. Throwing himself into a crouch, he waited for Burt to appear. Scanning the landscape for any sign of the monks, he crawled into a small bunker to his left. The bunker offered limited temporary cover. Once there, he spread all of his weapons out on the ground. Maybe he could wait it out here.
   Spear, ion daggers, pistols strapped to his chest, extra ammo. He waxed his bowstring and carefully selected an arrow. Slipping his quiver onto his back along with the spear, he jammed the ion daggers deep in his belt and slithered out of the bunker. Burt hadn?t flipped yet, so he set out in search of the monks alone.

Chapter Four

   
   Amar found the monks stationed throughout the dunes, almost hidden due to their sand-colored robes. One jumped up from his position a couple of hills away and fired off a barrage of fire arrows. Amar snarled as an arrow slammed into the sand beside his footpaw, not two inches away from its target. He shot and arrow in the monk?s direction then slipped off to come up behind him.
   He found the monk still searching the dune he had just left. He threw an ion dagger into his back and moved on.   
   The second monk was hiding on the far side of a particularly unstable dune. Amar struggled to the top and looked down, seeing a small hump about halfway down. As he moved further to investigate, the hump suddenly broke loose and a monk popped up, chanting. Amar didn?t have time to react. The searing heat of a fire spell slammed into him, throwing him against the sand and knocking the drawn bow to the ground, incinerating the bowstring.
   The monk scrambled up to his side, and started panting out a final spell. Amar looked up. The blast had all but ripped him. He tried to move his arms, but found that they were pinned to the ground underneath his body. He turned back to the monk. Just as he was raising his hands, a shot rang out. The monk crumpled to the sand, headless. A second later he disappeared, to reappear in the riproom. Amar looked around. A little to the left, he saw what appeared to be a shimmer of heat. It wiggled towards him, and Amar saw that it was Burt.
   Burt grinned at him. ?Got yer back, Marry! Hey, I awreddy got all the rest. Let?s flip. Ya okay? C?mon, let?s go.? He went.
   Amar stared up at Burt. There had been at least six monks besides the one he had gotten. Burt was pretty good. He flipped.

   When he got back to the simroom, he tore off the trobes and jumped up to see Burt. He was relaxing on the couch, orange juice in hand, smiling.
   ?Man, I ain?t never seen someone like you before. How many monks didja get anyway??
   Burt set down his orange juice and stood up. Grasping Amar by the shoulders, he spoke as if to a child who had done wrong.
   ?Ahh, Amar, Amar. How many times do I have to tell you before you understand? The triumph be not in how many you get, but in how you get them. Quality, young grasshopper.? He stared into Amar?s eyes with a slight smile.
   ?Yeah right.? Amar broke down. He started giggling, and then it was as if a floodgate opened up. He was rolling on the floor roaring by the time the monks filed in. He hopped up and tried to keep a straight face as each one of them slowing advanced to the front and bowed low with their hands clasped.

 lets all remember that JRR Tolkien was a christian himself, and if you ever read the silmarillion, it has a very significant resemblance to the bible. your friend, by doing this, is in a way worshipping God. there is a lot of symbolism in LOTR. i'm not saying that it is right, but she's not all gone. I'll be praying, TR.

 SHUTUP, SHUTUP, SHUTUP!!!!!
I DON'T CARE HOW THE **** I SPELLED THAT, BY THE WAY!
THIS HAS GOT TO STOP! WHY THE HELL ARE WE STILL ARGUING OVER JOSH?!?!?!? WE WERE OVER THAT! SO STOP BEFORE I CHOP OFF YOUR HEADS AND STICK THEM ON A PLATE WITH GARLIC SHAVINGS!!
GEEZE! WHY CAN'T YOU JUST PLAY THE BLOODY GAME AND BE NICE?

 probably does. he has an explanation for his problems. moving on, i will miss u menatus, and will always wonder why the devil you disbanded our clan. since shes not here, ill tell evvybodee i think shes mad at me. just a hunch. anywayz we will all miss her.
oh and if shes giving 'net up for lent, then she might not be back on at all. lent is supposed to break you of a bad habit for good, not just postpone the bad habit.
much love all
*#Shadow Giant#*
listenin 2 linkin park
it starts with one
multiplies till u can taste the sun

 to clear things up, when God made earth, He put the chickens on first. how do i know? if He put the eggs on, who would hatch them? Adam and Eve? no. the chicken came first. sorry to burst your bubble (or egg)

 hey, i mentioned an english paper i was writing in turbo discussion, so i thought i'd run it past you guys. tell me if you like it or understand it.

A New Way to Think:

Parallel Time Planes

by: (my name, can't tell you that  :rolleyes: )

   Think about your conventional theory of time. Most likely, if you were to make your vision into a quilt, it would look like a jumble of threads; all starting at different places, ending different places, and all traveling in one direction. Each thread would represent each person?s life, or allotment of time on the Earth. Naturally, this all would take place on a single two-dimensional ?time plane?, because everything is happening at the same time. This would make the side view of your ?time quilt? look like a single straight line. But what if each thread belonged to its own plane? This would mean that there would be an identical quilt for each thread, but only one thread on each quilt would really be moving; the rest would just be projections of what was happening on all the other quilts. Each thread would be at a different place on its quilt, and each person?s life would be happening at a different time than the rest of the lives, making each ?quilt? have its own plane of time. Confused? Let me explain further.
   First, let?s look at what the side view of the set of planes would look like with the new theory. Each line is parallel to all the rest, but each line is at its own time plane. All of the lines have the same path, yet each is at its own point on that path. This means that people are experiencing the past or future of everyone else?s life, not the other people?s actual self. Also, this means that you would truly be alone in the universe, because everyone around you doesn?t exist, they?re just projections of other people.
   This theory would make time travel possible, too. In the conventional theory, to travel across time, one would have to trace a path along the time plane forwards or backwards. Since they would still be on the same plane, the would cease to exist, or return to their old selves. For example, if you were to go to the future, you would stop existing as soon as you left, because in the past you went to the future and stopped existing. If you went to the past, as soon as you passed the point where you traveled back in time, you would pass that point in your mind and forget that you went to the past, therefore returning to that place in time because you never left yet. But if the parallel time plane theory were true, all one would have to do is go from one plane to the next to travel time. Yes, you would stop existing in your own time, but start to exist in someone else?s.
   The thoughts this new theory would elicit are somewhat frightening. You would only exist in a projection of everyone else?s reality, and your reality would be projected into everyone else?s. So who would have the right reality? Is everyone else an illusion; are you the only real person? Or are you an illusion yourself?
   There is no proof for or against this new theory. For example, say you were to tell me that you were experiencing this ?time?, right now, and I know I am. Proof? No. See, when you say you?re in this time, you were/will be, but as of now, I don?t know if it?s the future version of you saying it, or the past, or the present. The same reason goes for proof for it.
   In conclusion, this new theory is by all means possible, but probably just a fun thing to think about. The only difference it makes is whether we can travel time. I hope you understand the theory and had fun thinking about it. I will leave you with one thought: you might be perfectly alone in your own reality.

            *#Sincerely, (my name again)#*

 i'd murder him for you if i weren't on that side. i hate arrogant people.