So basically...

[Socks]

I got really really high and wrote this as it wore away. It's due next week and it's about 1/3 of a story I must write for my fiction class. Besides some spelling and grammar corrections I did not fuck around with it too much, yet. I've only seen and read a shit load of stuff on war and conflict, and have only limited formal writing education. I have not been to war.

So can you guys help me improve this before I have to turn it in?  

   The helicopter roared even louder and slowly began to lift upwards. Lt. Benny Daniels had been the last to jump out, he paused for a moment and then crouched low over the landing zone. The lieutenant proceeded to quickly cover his ears and bunch up his face, looking as if he was concentrating to hope away all the stinging sand particles thrashing about. Even thought he was wearing his black sunglasses, I could tell he was squinting hard. But the sand kept coming and all one could see was a swirling haze of tan which varied only in shade and never in consistency. It made uncertain if we were still on the small patch of clear earth we landed on. The Lieutenant hated this, he had said so himself. But we all hated it. All the gunshipââ,¬â,,¢s ever kicked up was a seemingly endless amount of dirt and filth.
   The pounding pressure from above was beginning to fade. The Lieutenant rose slowly and seemed to kneel deliberately. He began feverishly jerking his head at an angle and moving it in a short swiping motion. He cocked his neck North and hurriedly threw his eyes back and forth from the mountains to the platoon. With his mouth, which had started to contort, he shouted orders to move out and push forward into the surrounding bush. The wild hedges were all around us. They dotted and darkened the landscape blending together from afar and gave the appearance of a full and thick carpet covering the steep valley walls. But the Lieutenant had struck a great pose. He was still squatted on the bare dirt thrusting behind the running troops and waving his rifle carelessly in the air, apparently still commanding. It was a sight I had often thought about. Something you imagine when thinking about combat, you know, men leading and men dying. But it was not just the visual sight of the Lieutenant hunched a few feet off the ground. He resembled a big crusty rock, the way his small load of 60 pounds, dirt covered and everything, arched on his back in a jumbled wrinkle of digital fabric and heap twist of cords. This was surprising, sure. Yet it was not something wholly new. However, what you never imagine and what is terrifying, is the ancient gravel pebbles upon which the Lieutenant stood on. They shatter easily and come in varying shades of gray, most are no bigger than a jawbreaker. But there is a deep and permanent layer of dust and muck on them that never seems disturbed by the helicopters or the artillery shells, even the JDAMs donââ,¬â,,¢t do shit to it. A little distance away the hawthorn shrubs sporadically growing on the slopes and jutting deadwood dispersed between gave a sickly impression. At times the grass also looked like dying hairs on a cancer patient. A few clumps here to distract you, and not enough tufts over there to cover you up. The locals merely grazed sheep on it, so it was sometimes green and often yellow, and not thick enough, just a few feet off the ground. It was easy to tower over it. The men knew this so they leaned forward when they ran. And they had run at a quick pace advancing down the faint trails, always staying quite erect and balanced, trying to look composed but displaying a posture of alertness.
   By now even the Lieutenant had advanced forward. The scouts had set up positions 100 meters ahead. I could just make out their positions, perched in two high ridges 30 meters higher than us concealed within some distant juniper and stone pine trees. They were wedged between thick brush. They were somewhat concealed by the misty vapor that oozed down from the grey dawn sky and seemed to seep from the glowing full moon. There were faint smoky clouds stringed along on an invisible wire drawn in curly wisps that floated above the valley peaks. The Lieutenant was behind and low, he was walking slowly on a goat trail that serves as the only line of transportation into the heart of Korengall valley. He was cautiously looking around swiveling his head high and low and followed his gaze with his rifle muzzle, pausing to look through the scope at seemingly random areas of the wilderness. The cliffs and ridges seemed higher and more menacing than 300 meters might suggest on a satellite topographic map. I remember how the trees had seemed like little harmless green paint blotches spread neatly over the land. Where there were prickly looking areas covering gently sloping ripples, it had seemed as if the Earth had gotten goosebumps. But such was the nature of the Hindu Kush. From ground level the trees looked like giant dark mushrooms and tall prickly needles. There was a random order to their location. It made the scene look more complex than it should have. The valley proceeded to rise in layers that had saw tooth edges and that went from deep green to light green. The level of detail within each layer corresponded to distance and got dimmer and more blurred the farther back you went. Until it would eventually fade off into the distant sky. That too was always bizarre from within the valley. It was like trying to look out at the outside from within a deep bowl. There were always crooked angles and weird junction formed by conflicting ridges, crossing gorges, deep crevices, and uneven tree lines. A jagged skyline permanently adorned the view no matter where you were in the Korengall valley. The entire scenery often merged so the boundary between heaven and earth was usually blurred. It was not gradual and uniform; certainly it was not smooth and horizontal. It was just a raveled mesh of geology and vegetation that conspired to disorient the senses. Sometime the effect even briefly caused you to question which way is up and which way is down. Then there was the dark and hopelessly tangled webs of shadow being cast upon everything. They interacted with the sometimes lush and sometimes hard ground to create a mesmerism effect. It could trick the eye. We had learned to know that overlapping natural arrangements of lines, shapes, and colors, could create spectacularly curious and amazingly terrible effects on the human mind. It left too much to the imagination.
   But Lt. Benny Daniels knew that thinking about this too much could be dangerous, so he ordered his men to spread out further and to stay alert. He knew the hills were steep. He knew visibility was limited and that the thick brush offered good concealment for the enemy. So good in fact that we had yet to see a dead body that was not ours. I suppose the Lieutenant think twice about ordering us up 50 meters along the ridge on both side of the narrow valley floor. We had often trained higher than that back at home. Unlike back at home I could see the Lieutenant was having great difficulty making progress along the goat trail. His path was wet and muddy and his boots kept getting stuck and pulled down by the earth with east step that he took. But on his sides the ground was covered with tree canopies and big boulders and small rocks, there were even fine falling pebbles moved by the footsteps of his soldiers somewhere high up on the ridge. They walked among tree trunks and parting shrubs, some green and others dead.    
   Up on my hill I could see Sgt. Stevens. He was moving fast and bracing himself at and angle with his left had against the hillââ,¬â,,¢s rocks as he jumped from one tree pit to the next. Always staying next to something that offered cover and mass. His rucksack was swinging from side to side and his head was fixed straight up and looking ahead. I couldnââ,¬â,,¢t make out anything there though, it was totally black. I was breathing hard trying to move against the shifting rocks. They made an endless crunching and girding noise as they tumbled and caused you to slip. The dead foliage was wet and loose. It looked shiny, sure, but only as youââ,¬â,,¢re about to step on it. Before that moment, everything looks inviting. Moving like this sucked. It was a never ending situation of having constant consequences for your decision. The events were always unfolding and you had to keep thinking and keep moving. To stop humping it was to fall behind. To stop thinking was to die. Every step had to be measured and agonized but still put down nonetheless. The present was always slipping into the future and what could have been done was already done. To change what had been done was impossible, and even if it was possible it would compromise the present. To appreciate the present was to be alive. Pvt. Norman Cadence had already slipped. He had fallen a few meters down. One of his belt loops had snagged a tree root on the way down and he had and managed to right himself up. As he stumbled forward a great trail of dirt and a huge ball of dust followed him through the hill. Sgt. Stevens had heard the commotion and stopped to take a look, he turned to his head right and cocked to take a half step. He gently landed his right leg barely a foot from where he had swung around, peculiarly placing it on top of an exposed rock. The space around him burst into life with a quick and violent expulsion of matter that lifted a thick cloud of dust and particles. There had been a bright flash and thundering crack which had caused me to take cover and fall back. I looked up to see the poor Sergeant higher than the dust and earth below him, placed midway up a pine tree and at the very top of a cedar tree. There was still a pink mist up in the air and a red glistening splatter had stained the dirt floor in the general direction of Pvt. Cadence, the nearest to the explosion. The area crackled as raining debris fell down upon the leaves and as charred branches slowly burned and collapsed.

[Travis]

i thought you quit smoking

[Skylark]

i thought you quit smoking

[hotlikesauce.]

Lol. Quitting is a bitch.

[Daddy]

Is the real socks back.

[hotlikesauce.]

Btw Socks I saved that and I was gonna ask if I could use that for my english class or have you copyrighted it.

[hotlikesauce.]

i'd prefer you not

why

[the shortest route to the sea]

There were about 20 places that I wanted to toss a comma in, but that's personal taste. Just...think about what a comma does for the flow, and what the lack of it creates.

   The helicopter roared even louder and slowly began to lift upwards lift upwards? lift as an intransitive verb is awkward. look at alternatives like rise . Lt. Benny Daniels had been the last to jump out, no comma; semicolon or period  he paused for a moment and then crouched low over the landing zone. The lieutenant proceeded to quickly split infinitive rar  cover his ears and bunch up his face, looking as if he was concentrating to hope away all the stinging sand particles thrashing about the image of scrunching up into a ball and hoping away the sand is an awesome one, but the sentence is awkward . Even thought you mean though  he was wearing his black sunglasses, I could tell he was squinting hard. But the sand kept coming and all one could see was a swirling haze of tan which varied only in shade and never in consistency great density comment . It made uncertain  what?  if we were still on the small patch of clear earth we landed on. The Lieutenant hated this unless you're trying to be ambiguous, make that "this" have an object , he had said so himself. But we all hated it. All the gunshipââ,¬â,,¢s  's != had  ever kicked up was a seemingly endless amount of dirt and filth.  you evoke a really compelling environment and place the people well in it, but try making things a bit more succint to make it pack more of a punch
   The pounding pressure from above was beginning to fade. The Lieutenant rose slowly and seemed to kneel deliberately. He began feverishly jerking his head at an angle and moving it in a short swiping motion. He cocked his neck North and hurriedly threw his eyes back and forth from the mountains to the platoon. With his mouth, which had started to contort  careful about all the "seemed to"s and "started to"s; they're useful, but overusing them mucks up a sentence , he shouted orders to move out and push forward into the surrounding bush. The wild hedges were all around us  I like that they just appear . They dotted and darkened the landscape blending together from afar and gave the appearance of a full and thick carpet covering the steep valley walls I love you so much . But the Lieutenant had struck a great pose. He was still squatted  squatting  on the bare bare to describe dirt is a bit odd.  dirt thrusting behind the running troops and waving his rifle carelessly in the air, apparently ha still commanding. It was a sight I had often thought about. no period here, comma  Something you imagine when thinking about combat, you know, men leading and men dying. But it was not just the visual sight I understand the desire to create emphasis, but there is no sight that is not visual of the Lieutenant hunched a few feet off the ground. He resembled a big crusty rock here, and occasionally elsewhere, can you think of good synonyms to simple adjectives? but also notice: the short and curt adjectives create a sort of tangible realism that's really cool , the way his small load of 60 pounds, dirt covered and everything, arched on his back in a jumbled wrinkle of digital fabric and heap twist of cords I love you so much more . This was surprising, sure. no period  Yet it was not something wholly new. However, what you never imagine and what is terrifying, is the ancient gravel pebbles upon which the Lieutenant stood on  fix this sentence to make it parallel to itslelf .They shatter easily and come in varying shades of gray, most are no bigger than a jawbreaker. But there is a deep and permanent layer of dust and muck on them that never seems disturbed by the helicopters or the artillery shells, even the JDAMs donââ,¬â,,¢t do shit to it  very cool . A little distance away the hawthorn shrubs sporadically growing on the slopes and jutting deadwood dispersed between gave a sickly impression this is an awkward sentence: the lack of commas lost me, and the participles/gerunds floating about were stranges. "a sickly impression" is the kind of phrase which confuses who is the subject and who is the object . At times the grass also looked like dying hairs on a cancer patient how is this contrasting? (also?) . A few clumps here to distract you, and not enough tufts over there to cover you up. The locals merely grazed sheep on it, so it was sometimes green and often yellow, and not thick enough, just a few feet off the ground. It was easy to tower over it oooh . The men knew this so they leaned forward when they ran. And they had run at a quick pace advancing down the faint trails, always staying quite erect and balanced, trying to look composed but displaying a posture of alertness. composedness != alertness? why?
   By now even the Lieutenant had advanced forward. The scouts had set up positions 100 meters ahead. I could just make out their positions, perched in two high ridges 30 meters higher than us concealed within some distant juniper and stone pine trees. They were wedged between thick brush. They were somewhat concealed by the misty vapor that oozed <3  down from the grey  gray?  dawn sky and seemed to seep from the glowing full moon I love what you're trying to do with these past few sentences, but they don't flow very well to me . There were faint smoky clouds stringed along on an invisible wire get in my bed  drawn in curly wisps that floated above the valley peaks. The Lieutenant was behind and low, he was walking slowly on a goat trail that serves as the only line of transportation into the heart of Korengall valley. He was cautiously looking around swiveling his head high and low and followed slow down, private. the action is getting confused by run-on sentences  his gaze with his rifle muzzle, pausing to look through the scope at seemingly random areas of the wilderness. The cliffs and ridges seemed higher and more menacing than 300 meters might suggest on a satellite topographic map. I remember how the trees had seemed like little harmless green paint blotches spread neatly over the land. Where there were prickly looking areas covering gently sloping ripples, it had seemed as if the Earth had gotten goosebumps. But such was the nature of the Hindu Kush. From ground level the trees looked like giant dark mushrooms and tall prickly needles. There was a random order to their location. It made the scene look more complex than it should have. The valley proceeded to rise in layers that had saw tooth edges and that went from deep green to light green. The level of detail within each layer corresponded to distance and got dimmer and more blurred the farther back you went. no period Until it would eventually fade off into the distant sky. That too was always bizarre from within the valley. It was like trying to look out at the outside from within a deep bowl. There were always crooked angles and weird junction formed by conflicting ridges, crossing gorges, deep crevices, and uneven tree lines. A jagged skyline permanently adorned the view no matter where you were in the Korengall valley. The entire scenery often merged so the boundary between heaven and earth was usually blurred. It was not gradual and uniform; certainly it was not smooth and horizontal. It was just a raveled mesh of geology and vegetation that conspired to disorient the senses. You're taking a wonderful, evocative set of images and patterns and milking them to pure hell. Take out some of these sentences and make what's going on here more precise. it's really good.  Sometime the effect even briefly caused you to question which way is up and which way is down. Then there was the dark and hopelessly tangled webs of shadow being cast upon everything. They interacted with the sometimes lush and sometimes hard you could just make it "the lush, hard ground" rather than overstate the contrast with "sometimes"  ground to create a mesmerism that's not a word  effect. It could trick the eye. We had learned to know that overlapping natural arrangements of lines, shapes, and colors, could create spectacularly curious and amazingly terrible effects on the human mind. It left too much to the imagination. speak less, but don't get any less intense then this passage is
   But Lt. Benny Daniels knew that thinking about this too much could be dangerous, so he ordered his men to spread out further and to stay alert. He knew the hills were steep. He knew visibility was limited and that the thick brush offered good concealment for the enemy. So good in fact that we had yet to see a dead body that was not ours minor thing: why would they see bodies? . I suppose the Lieutenant think grammar  twice about ordering us up 50 meters along the ridge on both side of the narrow valley floor. We had often trained higher than that back at home. Unlike back at home I could see the Lieutenant was having great difficulty making progress along the goat trail. His path was wet and muddy and his boots kept getting stuck and pulled down by the earth with east each  step that he took. But on his sides the ground was covered with tree canopies and big boulders and small rocks, there were even fine falling pebbles moved by the footsteps of his soldiers somewhere high up on the ridge. They walked among tree trunks and parting shrubs, some green and others dead.     a nice image of things swirling / pivoting especially around the Lt. keep it atomspheric and sort of haphazardly but also very lucidly seeing what's around
   

This is all I'm energized enough to do.

[hotlikesauce.]

Read first post, please.

[the shortest route to the sea]

thank you very much for you input.

i usually use a lot of commas to accentuate what i want to say and jump poignantly from one theme to the other. but in this i wanted to create the feel of a constantly flowing visual and emotional stimulus, like an observer that never has time to catch up with what's being presented or happening around him

I was wondering if it was deliberate. It doesn't work for me, although I don't want to tear down your artistic purpose. There are others ways of creating such...insistent flow, such hyperactive deluges, than messing with commas. I do like the way you oscillate between general short sentences and longer, more winding sentences. But...man please, think of the homeless commas ;_;

[the shortest route to the sea]

Dust, like rain, settled upon his sweat-drenched, bloody, still forehead. I, being curious, stood next to him. He looked, as much as such a still, craggy remnant of a man could move, at me, being there, and said: ",,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,"

[??????]

guessing you got high with that Indian

STILL GOING TO NOT SMOKE

[Socks]

guessing you got high with that Indian

December 1st