______ is pure pleasure, _______ is Pure Pain

[Tilvan the Storyweaver]

Alright, I have a challenge for all of you aspiring authors, as well as for casual writers.  In my english class today we were given an assignment for a free write.  The free write was based on two lines from the book Dispatches.  The lines that this is based on is, "Flying over the Jungles is pure pleasure," and , "Walking through the Jungles is Pure Pain."  The assignment was to give your own version of the two lines, "_____ is pure pleasure," and "_____ is pure pain."  One paragraph following each line expanding on what you put down for it.  This does not have to be based on your own life, this could be creative or not, its your choice.

This challenge is for anyone and everyone, you are welcome to either post your own or to comment on those that have already been posted.  I will start with mine.

   Losing oneself is pure pleasure, no longer being able to sense the outside world and being locked inside a world of your own creation.  Being pulled into an incredible song and being swept along with it sending your mind to the farthest reaches of the world.  Being uplifted and in pure ecstasy, lost among the greatest of Hero's and the worst of Villain's.  Directing the world in anyway you want, to be able to decide just how the hero saves the day and just how the villain narrowly escapes defeat again.  To be lost in the throes of love, to watch the one you love and see all that is wonderful about him.  To think of all the things that the two of you have done, remember the happiness that comes with spending time with him.  To lose yourself in the touch oh his hand, in the tenor of his voice, in the loveliness of his laugh.  To dream a dream that seems to big to reach, only to keep striving for it despite pain and loss.  To think of a future where you and the one you love are together, to think of all the things that are to come and to dream of just how you conquer each and every obstacle.  To be a God who can do anything and everything, to relish in what you have accomplished and to set a new task after every victory to strive onwards and upwards.
   Reality is pure pain, to be ripped from your mind and to lose all that you dreamed.  To hit the end of the song and be jarred back into the pain of reality, to be grounded from the skies you flew.  To watch the hero's and villain's drift away into the recesses of your mind as you face the pain of every new day.  To watch from afar the one you love in the arms of another, to cry as you are forced to face the reality that you can never be with him, never be held; never be loved by the one you cherish.  To lose the sweet memories and only know of the pain from scorn and denial.  To have to realize that your dreams amount to nothing and to watch as they shatter before your eyes.  To see the bloody painful truth, loved ones dieing, their blood covering their beds.  To have your future wrenched away as the cold harsh reality of today is forced into your face with out warning, without care.  To lose all that you hope for, to lose all that you care about and to lose all that you dared to strive for.  To be shattered by the world and to be in pieces never to be gathered and put back together.

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Being a luser is pure pleasure - never needing to think about the consequences of your actions, knowing that the poor buggers in the basement will make things work again, no matter how stupid you've been.

Supporting a luser is pure pain. See above.

[Roureem Egas]

Sleeping in bed is pure pleasure, lying around without a care in the world, to visit the farthest reaches in your dreams, to follow the story you've made up for others and involve yourself in the path they take.

Writing for school is pure pain. Spending countless hours writing insignificant drivel, following strict limits to make a grade, and finding it irksome to make it even look acceptable.

[Aisha deCabre]

Speaking to friends is pure pleasure.  Seeing familiar faces or familiar words, joking and laughing, knowing that there are those who care and for whom you would do anything.  Coming in from a hard day to put stress into exile, gaining a smile from a warm greeting.

Silence is pure pain.  A quiet, somewhat unsettling veil over a conversation.  The fear or concern that you may have caused it.  The lingering thoughts that maybe you are one of those who are never meant to speak...to be annoying, to be overly-energetic, to be the bystander...not the one to bring the words back.

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Silence is Pure Pleasure. To have time to think, without people interrupting you every two minutes, or jabbering on about whatever it is they think might be important to them, and hence, since they're obviously the centre of the universe, the whole world will just stop and wait for them to get around to the point, maybe, eventually, with no real rhyme nor reason to the entire dialogue, other than to waste your time and stop you from finishing whatever task it was that you mgiht have had planned for yesterday, let alone today... Such peace and undisturbed concentrate allows one to complete far more tasks than one might reasonably expect, for some strange reason...

Speaking to people is Pure Pain, for when one might want to stop and think, one is forced to keep rabbiting on and on about whatever it was you wanted to explain to them, and they manage to find it difficult to think about the task at hand, wandering off vaguely at the slightest provocation, and generally making it hard to tell them what you want them to do. If you fail to be completely, crystal clear, you pay for it later, when they come back and bother you again, asking the same question all over again, with no understanding seeping into the microcephalic lump they keep between their shoulders....

[Magic]

Sweet nothings are Pure Pleasure. To whisper softly into someone's ear of words so sacred as one ear may only hear it yet so sinful as to manipulate one's emotions for it's own sake; the joy of it. To make one squirm softly in your clutches, to only hear in their mind your soft chant, and know that none will disturb it's sanctity.

To do no wrong is Pure Pain. To be locked inside the responsibility and reputation that you have set upon yourself to have undying fervor in the art of compassion without once following one's own whims destroys one's humanity. To be an angel, to sing forever the song of heaven and to be no less infallible as perfection-- I would rather, humanity.