just-A-steppingStone

life is just a stepping stone to what lies ahead, to infinte power, vitality and knowledge. it is an obstacle to overcome, a maze of limitations, its only purpose is to create a personality, to define a character and to form a pathway. birth is not the beginning, nor is death the end. they are simply sections of the cycle. a cycle with no end, or beginning a cycle which unifies every being, element and energy a container made to hold mysteries mysteries like love, of which we have no true understanding life is the driving factor which will decide whether you simply follow the cycle or expand it. the greatness that will be discov

 A car wears down. Its oil must be changed, its brakes must be replaced, its tires must be rotated. It must avoid crashes and it will be immobilized if its motor is not properly lubricated and timed. If it runs on fumes too many times it will lose power. If it pulls too many heavy loads it will eventually fall apart. And even if all these factors are kept in check, the car will eventually wear out and find its way to a junk yard. People wear out, too. They must be fed, they must be clothed, and they must rest for a time. They must avoid bullets and punches, and they are useless if they lose their sanity. Should they spend too many days with

 Rain poured down in heavy sheets that night, and in the cover of absolute darkness achieved by those black clouds, troops marched to the front. Tanks and armored personnel carriers would roll down the roads in convoys fifty vehicles long, all rolling down the few paved roads west, all on their way to the valley. There had to be four or five divisions being poured into the fight, flooding into a spot behind American lines for a big push. Valery Ganelin was both a spectator and a participant. Riding on the roofs of a seemingly wayward column of T-90 tanks, the company of Naval Infantry he was now attached to rode astride the endless streams

 When Colonel-General Zloradstva was around, people worked hard. People worked hard or people disappeared. Sometimes, people disappeared anyways. For Filip was a prodigiously practical man. When he wanted something done, it was done. And it was done right, too, or may God have mercy on whoever messed it up. Zloradstva set deadlines. Not ones he wasn't willing to flex by days or hours or minutes, but deadlines that proved to have a very apt name if they weren't met. Today, heads were going to have to literally roll. For Zloradstva, who for so long had been trapped behind a desk in Moscow, watching NATO wrest the Rodina from its own people bi

"Son, you're gonna have a big parade waiting for you when you go home." Colonel Dangerfield declared confidently, huffing out his noxious breath and pumping his enormous chest as he spoke. Standing before him in his command post, Captain Kovic remained at attention and kept his words mechanical. "Yes sir." Dangerfield nodded, somewhat awkwardly. "Sir…I have a question." "Ask away! Glad you're finally willing to say something. Sometimes I think I get no respect from you or something." "Not at all, sir." Jack quickly explained. He went on, "I wanted to talk to Colonel Yakimovich again." "That pissant air force officer? What about?"