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Niagara Writers

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А вы хотите зарабатывать с блога? [Mar. 29th, 2010|10:20 pm]
Niagara Writers

shapranov
Всем привет!



Недавно заметил в блоге Игоря Бигдана рекламный баннер, где он предлагает рекламу в своем блоге. И тоже задумался над тем, как бы получить хотя бы небольшую копеечку со своего увлечения.



Наткнулся на форуме блоггеров http://www.bloggers.su/forum/ на раздел о монетизации блогов http://www.bloggers.su/forum/forumdisplay.php?f=29, там обсуждаются многие вопросы, смысл которых мне непонятен. Тем не менее, некоторые из участников озвучивали цифры, и у некоторых якобы доход с блога был такой, что с основной работы можно было уйти... я бы тоже так хотел...



Особенно заинтересовала тема: Как начать зарабатывать на блоге? В ней новичкам, в т.ч. и мне, объясняют как найти рекламодателей для блога, какими способами вообще можно заработать... короче интересно блин и перспективно, как мне кажется.



А вы что думаете об этом?
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(no subject) [Jun. 29th, 2007|05:23 pm]
Niagara Writers

sularetal
You said it will help me someday
But how do you know for sure?
What gave you the notion to come find me?
I always said it would never work out.

I turned right, you turned left.
I went north and you south.
To meet in a place such as Dresden
Is unfitting

We, ourselves, we will give back the love
That was stolen
During the war
Or at least we’ll try and break even

You hunted me
And you found me
Now you’re leaving me
And leaving no trace

It’s fortunate I’m a shell
of the man I used to be
who’d always say
What’s on his mind

Once again I’m found
And lost
And found again
I’m just tired
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Farewell [Jun. 2nd, 2007|03:03 am]
Niagara Writers

sularetal
The endless torture
self-sustained
waits in the depths
to come out and prey

Found within -
a beacon of hope
the cause of my pain
the reason to end

Those selfish souls
unlike those I hold dear
will never know the pain
I self-sustain
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a piece for a film. [Feb. 5th, 2007|12:37 am]
Niagara Writers

suppanish
[music |The Coctails - Hip Hop]

I really love my mother, I mean really love her, she’s done so much for me, more than anyone else, she always took great care of me. But for some reason I always felt compelled to be an asshole to her, right until I was 14, and decided it was time to leave, and then once it was all said and done I’ve grown to appreciate her more or something and have been almost always pleasant to her, but now, after 5 or more years, I’m finding myself annoyed again by her. That’s not right though, is it? I should be pleased with my mother, but even on the telephone I get aggravated. I see myself growing away from her ever so fast, and it scares me in a way, because I’m OK with it, for the most part. I know she can sense it, by the way I talk, and act, and I don’t know perhaps she could always see it coming, she constantly said: “You’ve always marched to the beat of a different drum.” Well, she is probably more aware of what’s happening than I am, and is probably not worried at all. So why should I be?
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because everyone loves people who whine and do nothing. [Jan. 27th, 2007|11:22 pm]
Niagara Writers

intensityjunky
okay, so me and some like-minded compadres are going to shake this town up with awesome.

at the end of MARCH we're throwing an art/music jam called "GHOST TOWN PIRATES"

details in the coming days;
if you're down with something that is not Big Bucks with booze and pirate-people drop a line. if you have a band or are an artist or spin or MC or have a freaky talent, if you tattoo or pierce, if you just hate niagara as-is and want something fun to happen, let us know. flyers n' shit will be out soon at local establishments/hang outs. it's non-profit and it will be awesome, that's the only promise.

-leigh anne n' co
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Pre-emptive strike! [Jan. 17th, 2007|05:37 pm]
Niagara Writers

plexicon
[mood |exhaustedexhausted]

Do you prefer pen, pencil, computer, or something else with which to do your writing?

I prefer a sharp, sharp pencil.
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the begininnings of an essay on drug use [Jan. 17th, 2007|10:33 am]
Niagara Writers

suppanish
[music |Tugnut - Ode to Pete]

I have come to the realization in the last few months on the subject of marijuana. Now Marijuana is a plant that many claim should be out-lawed. Out-lawes? Hold on just a moment, how can one remove a plant from existence, but really if you look at it we are doing this already with many other plants, and to say this one has more attention on removing it, that really isn't true, with the massive amount of pollution and its only growing numbers you will find more and more plants becoming extinct or close to extinction. So it isnt really a question of whether or not it's right to disallow a plants existence, but more so what is the reasoning behind the removal of Marijuana, specifically.

People smoke Marijuana, to get "high" lets be honest with that one, in 99% of the case it is strictly a recreational activity. When most people are "high" they become much less productive, not to say that all users are, but in most cases. Now these less productive people have become more dependent on things like television, video games, the computer, and even food. Now over all this dependence can be viewed as a bad effect for the individual, at no doubt in my mind or anyone else who can see this corelation. But once again many people who do get "high" use it to become more productive in their fields of art, whether it be musical, visual, written, dramatic, it can be a really powerful tool.


**Before i go much further I must ensure you this essay is completely experimental, and I'm not necessarily trying to prove the good or the bad to the use of marijuana, but I guess we'll see in the upcoming entries.**
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Writing about ...writing? An excerpt from whatever the hell it is I've been penning for months now. [Jan. 12th, 2007|01:31 am]
Niagara Writers

plexicon
[Tags|, , , ]
[mood |blahblah]

Chapter Two:

And without warning: plot twist. All settled in, I was, and then it happened. Sipping a green tea, reading a hardback novel, feeling bohemian yet significantly poorer, I was interrupted by a body bumping into the table. He spoke. Ah, so the bump, it was intentional. He asked me if he could use the empty seat across from me. I looked up to say “Yeah, sure. Take it,” when locking eyes with him for the first time, I knew I should have kept my head down.
“You… yes. By all means.”
Charming, I am.
“Cheers.”
Cheers. I hated that. He sat. I noticed the room was full, with not a seat free. Aha. So he was sitting across from me, was he? He pulled out a thick, blue hardcover volume from his messenger bag. I raised my eyebrow, then made short work of pretending to read on in my book.
“Do you have a pen? This one’s dry,” he waved it at me.
In an attempt to appear annoyed, I huffed and passed him the pen that lay in front of me for note-taking. “Is black okay?” He nodded.
Struggling to be involved in my book, a book about love lost, my mind wandered off to wondering how my own love was faring tonight. We were always at a distance, it seemed. Most of the time, I was not only okay with this, but I actually enjoyed it. The love seemed stronger, the sex seemed rougher. Something was different when you were separated for at least five days at a time. At this very moment, I wanted him here. On this chair; below me, please. Offset this awkward clean cut, adorable soul across from me with unbridled fervor, baby. I couldn’t take it any longer.
“What’s your name?”
Surprised a little, he smiled. It was nothing short of heart-stopping.

I dreamed of fields and blood that night. Gore. Twists and curls of scarlet and crimson. Running from whoever “they” were. It doesn’t really matter.

The many ways we ruin our own lives out of desperation for something to do. Desperation, fear of boredom – I’ve drawn a fine line between the two.



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(Aside: All writing expressed here is copyright. Everything is copyright, really. Look it up some time. It's fascinating.)
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Welcome. :) [Jan. 12th, 2007|12:54 am]
Niagara Writers

plexicon
[Tags|, , , , , , ]
[Current Location |St Catharines, in bed]

Write whatever you'd like.

That's what we're here for.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Aside: All writing expressed here is copyright. Everything is copyright, really. Look it up some time. It's fascinating.)
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